


Profoundly Pretending

by IggyLikesPie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Bisexual Dean, Case Fic, Changing POV, DESCRIPTIONS OF MANGLED BODIES, Dean is emotionally constipated, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Drunk Castiel, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Grace Bonding, Hangover, Homophobic Language, I suck at writing okay, I wrote this instead of revising, M/M, Meddling Sam, Nightmares, Original Character(s), Pining Castiel, Pining Dean, Plot Twists, Pretend Boyfriends, SU - Freeform, Sam Ships It, Stakeout, Tooth Rotting Fluff, except it's dead bodies, fake kisses, not currently updating, sam is sick of this now, supernatural universe, tagged for graphic violence, there is seriously so much fluff, water fights
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-01-26 21:51:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 49,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1703801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IggyLikesPie/pseuds/IggyLikesPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Couples start going missing in the closed-off town of Springdale Fields and it's up to two hunters and an Angel to find out why.</p><p>Cue pretend boyfriends, Dean running from emotions, Sam meddling and domestic silliness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Underneath the Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set between The French Mistake and My Heart Will Go On so it may contain spoilers for late Season 6.
> 
> Basically, this is just me avoiding having to revise for my exams...  
> Sorry future me...

Okay, Dean will admit, he couldn't really see crap but what he could see made even his blood run cold: and it was for him it was happening.

 

_How did they end up here?_

 

Castiel was striding forward, that damn trench flaring behind him, as his blade fell from his sleeve and into his hand.

 

_What had happened again?_

 

That silver slashed and one of the faceless creatures slumped to the floor, black blood splattering across the wooden floor and the Angel's figure.

 

_Why were they here?_

 

Castiel's eyes glowed white as some monster was burned from inside its own body at the Angel's touch.

 

_When had his vision become so dark?_

 

A distant voice was saying his name... At least, it was his name, right? He knew that voice...

 

_Who was it? Who was he again?_

 

He... He had something important to do...

 

Dean's vision went completely black then and he fell to the hard floor.

 

~x~x~x~

 

“Wait, what? Run that by me one more time.” Dean said, sitting opposite his brother at the small, motel table.

 

Sam sighed. “Three couples, in the past week alone, have gone missing from this, uh... _'Springdale Fields'_ town. If it's anything like the two couples who went missing last month, one member of each couple will show up with their skin peeled off and their heart ripped out.”

 

“Well, that definitely sounds like our sort of thing so how long will it take to get there?” the older brother sighed, draining the last of his beer.

 

“I don't think we should rush into this, Dean. Bobby sent this one over and he says the whole place was pretty cut off and guarded when he went in as FBI.” Sam said, closing the laptop.

 

“So... What, we go undercover or something?” Dean sensed something caught between amusement and actual annoyance in his brother's tone.

 

“I guess, yeah, but whatever this is... Well, it's only going after couples.” he held up his hands at his brother's glare. “Hey, don't give me that look! And I can't play house with you, anyway; Bobby said this place has a town hall that's wired like Fort Knox – you'll need me in there.” Sam finished quickly, smirking slightly at his brother.

 

“So... What? How do we find this thing?” the green-eyed man stood up and stretched his arms, avoiding looking at his brother because he could practically taste where this was going...

 

“I thought, maybe, you and Cas could-”

 

“Ooh, no. No way, Sammy. He's busy in Heaven fighting this war or whatever – we'll deal with this ourselves.” Dean turned on his brother (who was decent enough to bite his lip to hide his smile).

 

Once again, the younger brother sighed. “It's a relatively big case, Dean, it won't hurt to at least ask him.”

 

“You ask him, it's your idea.” Dean grumbled, lying down on the closest bed. No way was he going to be pretend-whatever with Cas; he had no idea how he felt about the Angel who had saved him too many damn times. Sure, it could be classified as 'friendship' in some weird way, but then the dreams of Hell had started to change to ones about the person who had saved him in settings that Dean was trying his best to ignore. He couldn't risk being in close-quarters with Cas until he'd got all of this – whatever the 'this' was – bottled up and hidden away.

 

The elder brother didn't want to risk things getting awkward or any more complicated, especially with Sam around. Dean wasn't going to lie, he'd lusted after the same sex before but had not taken any real action on it since coming back from Hell: his dad had never known and Sam didn't know and that's just how Dean wanted to keep things.

 

**Nice. And. Simple.**

 

“He probably won't listen to me: 'profound bond', remember?” And _there_ was that shit-eating grin that Dean had been waiting for as he looked over at his Sasquatch of a brother.

 

There was a few moments of glaring at that grin and then Dean caved. “Okay, fine, but you owe me big time, bitch.” he pointed as Sam as he sat up on the bed.

 

“Whatever, jerk.” Sam snorted.

 

Ignoring him, Dean began his 'prayer'. “As I start off this day of doing another crappy job, I pray that Castiel is able to get his feathery ass down here and help with this.” he opened his green eyes and looked around; he was about to tell his brother 'I told you so' when he heard wing beats behind him.

 

“Hello, Dean. Sam.” came the gruff voice that normally signalled Castiel's arrival.

 

Sam's grin only got wider - his 'I told you so' - before opening the laptop again and turning it to face the Angel, who had moved to the foot of the bed. “We were wondering if you'd be able to help on a case: it's a pretty closed of community, couples have been disappearing and then one half of the couple will show up with no skin and their heart pulled out of their chests.”

 

Castiel tilted his head - having now come to stand in front of the table and the laptop – as if considering the case and listening to something far away.

 

“We understand if you can't, what with Raphael and everythi-” Dean began.

 

“I can assist. Balthazar is currently holding the ranks and Raphael seems unwilling to make another move after Balthazar joined my ranks so I believe I will have time to help.” the Angel spoke in that gravely voice before standing up poker-straight again.

 

“Brilliant. Just brilliant. You can fill him on the details, Sammy: I need a drink.” Dean said before grabbing his jacket and leaving the dingy motel room in a huff.

 

This was going to be a long... However long it took them to finish this case.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try and update regularly because pretend boyfriends are fun to write for! c:
> 
> ... I still need to find a beta...


	2. The Guardian of Hell is a Barbie Doll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Springdale Fields!  
> Population: the creepy and the off-limits.
> 
>  
> 
> Dean and Cas arrive at Springdale Fields and start to move in.

Five miles away from the gates into Springdale Fields, the brothers and the Angel were going over the final details of what could, barely, be called a plan.

 

“Okay, so who are you again?” Sam asked as he double-checked that he had everything he needed in the back of his newly acquired (Bobby had fixed it up to run but it was nothing fancy) car.

 

Dean leaned heavily against the side of the Impala as Castiel climbed out of the passenger's side. They were both dressed lightly in jeans and T-shirts with Dean wearing his leather jacket while the Angel had a red hoodie wrapped around his waist – for Iowa in spring, it was pretty warm with the sky stretching on in an endless blue and only a slight breeze blowing down the empty road. “I'm Dean Smith, that's Cas Novak, we're moving into a small house near the outskirts of the town and I hope this doesn't take longer than a couple of weeks.”

 

Sam pulled a bitchface. “Dean, you've got to make this convincing if you want to find this thing.” his brother reminded him.

 

“Yeah yeah, I know. How do you know this town won't go all _Witch Hunt_ on us, anyway? Do we know they don't have an issue with gay couples?” the elder Winchester was grasping at straws now – why did _he_ always get dragged into the most awkward of awkward situations.

 

“The second couple to go missing was a same sex couple by the name of Jennifer and Vanessa Mathews.” Castiel told him.

 

Dean sighed. “Good to know. Right come on then, _honey_ , I guess we'd better get going. The estate agent said she'd meet us at the gates at one.” he sighed as he climbed back into the driver's side and started the car.

 

“I'll meet you there tonight, I'm starting my new job as tech consultant tomorrow so I should be able to have a good look around.” Sam leaned in towards the open window: he'd managed to fake some credentials and gotten the job in the town which also came with a small apartment near the centre of the town.

 

“See ya later then, Samantha.” the older brother grinned before pulling back out onto the road. He _was_ going to get through this. It would all be fine... Probably.

 

The Angel to his right was treating it like any other hunt so why was Dean letting it get under his skin? He shook himself mentally and told himself that they only had to keep up the act when in public, any other time and it was the same as always. But then again, what even classified as 'the same' or 'normal' when it came to them any more?

 

Who were they now, any way?

The Righteous Man and an Angel?

Michael's Vessel and a Fallen Seraph?

Dean and Castiel?

 

Before he could reach any kind of answer, he could see the iron gates down the road. At some point, the stretching fields had given way to a dense woodland that arched over the road to form a canopy which shaded most of the dry tarmac. At the end of it, two iron gates were set into red-brick walls that extended into the woods and were, at least,twice as tall as Sam.

 

Waiting by the gates was a woman who, in Dean's opinion, was smiling a little too brightly and who stood a little too straight. Everything about her radiated an air of a painted doll.

 

Dean pulled up the car as they reached her and she crouched slightly in order to see into the window.

 

“Good afternoon!” she chirped and Dean resisted the urge to flinch at her sickly-sweet voice. “I'm Hannah Davonshire but please, call me Han. You must be Dean and Cas then, correct?” he red lips pulled into a wide smile as she tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear.

 

“We are, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Castiel spoke up - inclining his head as he did – for the first time since leaving Sam.

 

“Oh, likewise! I'm sure you'll be happy here at Springdale Fields so I'm just here to give you some last minute info, m'kay?” she didn't wait for an answer as she pulled something from a stack of papers she had been carrying in her arms. “Here's a map; you're in number eleven on Joshua Avenue which is here,” she pointed to an outer road on the map. “Everything you'll ever need can be bought in town but the gates are open from eight in the morning until ten at night. All the basic furniture is already in the house but if you need anything larger being brought in then there's a local moving service. Town meetings are normally held on the first Friday of every month but you'll hear more about that once you're settled. Is that all okay?”

 

Dean stared on as he tried to take in everything he'd just been told in a wash of overly-sweet sounds and an unnerving smile.

 

The Angel, however, managed to cover-up and accepted the map with a small smile of his own and a 'Thank you' before Hannah moved and swiped a key card over an electronic pad next to the gates.

 

“Oh yes, I forgot to mention, these open the gates during the open hours; yours will be waiting for you in your house. If you ever need to open the gates at another hour you'll have to speak with one of the gate keepers: there's three but only one gate – there's Harry Wilson, Fredrick Smithson and Buddy; nobody ever calls him by anything else. Their office is in the town plaza. But anyway, I've kept you long enough,” she laughed. “You should go make yourselves at home.”

 

The elder Winchester nodded before driving through the wide-open gates slowly, like a funeral parade.

 

“Well she was... scarily creepy, don't ya th-” he started to say when he was interrupted by a grunt from Castiel. “Cas? Cas! What's wrong?!” he started and was about to pull over.

 

“Don't- ugh, don't stop driving. There's people watching.” Castiel grated out. Dean wondered how the Angel knew this given the fact that he was clutching his stomach and bent double.

 

The green-eyed man looked back to the road and continued driving, trying to act like there wasn't an Angel who looked ready to faint in the passenger seat. “Care to tell me what's happening?” he asked.

 

The Seraph took a long breath before sitting back up; he looked a little pale but not in physical pain any more. “Those walls must be... Warded, I can no longer fly out. I can still feel my Grace but it has been... Bound.” he looked over at Dean then. “We need to find whatever this is, Dean.”

 

Said human nodded as he stopped the car in front of a (pretty stereotypical) wooden house which had a number eleven painted onto the side of its mailbox. “The sooner the better. And if it's Miss Barbie-Doll we saw out front? All the better.”

 

“I sensed no abnormal aura radiating from her. I believe she was human if... Slightly disturbing.” Castiel informed him as they both climbed out of the car and grabbed up a box each from the back seat. The boxes had been filled by Dean and Sam the night before with whatever they could find in charity shops just so it looked like they were actually a couple. Dean knew, however, that many of the boxes were mostly empty and were only there for show.

 

“Yeah, well, I bet she still has some part of this.” Dean muttered as he waved to somebody across the street. Keeping the smile on his face, he added out of the corner of his mouth to Castiel. “Oh God, I think she's coming over to talk to us.”

 

“Language, Dean, and we're supposed to play along.” the Angel reminded him as the woman all but skipped across the road towards them.

 

“Hey, I'm Rachel. I live just across the road. I take it you're just moving in?” she asked. Her red hair was tied back from her face and she had bright blue eyes set into a tanned face. _Gay_ , Dean reminded himself. _You're meant to be gay_ , and if that was something Dean had ever thought he'd hear himself think, he'd paint the Impala bright yellow. It wasn't helped by the fact that she was wearing shorts and a tank top like she was about to go jogging that didn't leave much about her figure to the imagination.

 

“Yeah, I'm Dean and this is Cas. It's nice to meet you.” he gave a grin that could melt butter.

 

“Oh, you'll have to come over and meet the rest of this part of the neighbourhood! Me and my husband are having a barbecue this weekend and we've invited practically everyone from here to Maple Road.” she giggled. Husband? Well damn.

 

“That sounds delightful.” Castiel said.

 

“Well, I'm gonna have to go but I'll see you around to tell you the details, 'kay?” she smiled before jogging off to their right and down the street.

 

“Really? You want to go to a barbecue?” Dean turned to him.

 

The Angel gave a small tilt of his head that could have been his version of a shrug. “It seemed like an easy way to get to know the people and assess how many other couples there are and if we can tell who will be next.”

 

The elder Winchester did shrug. “Okay. Well, lead the way, _babe_.” he smirked.

 

Just because it was complicated didn't mean he wasn't going to have fun.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look-y here! Two chapters in one day!
> 
> Yeah... Not gonna lie, this won't happen very often: it's only 'cause I'm on holiday and I have ideas for this fic at the moment!
> 
>  
> 
> Any feedback is appreciated! c:


	3. First Night at... Home?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic life is starting to get to Dean and he's only been there a few hours...
> 
> Also, Sam knows something.

By five o'clock in the evening, all of the boxes were unpacked and all of 'their' stuff was placed around the house in an attempt to make it look... Homely and they had each placed their keycards on the kitchen counter so they could find them easily. They had even had time to visit the local store and get basic groceries.

 

The only thing Dean really liked about the house, however, was the fact that it had a tape player so he was lounging on the sofa with _Highway to Hell_ playing from the corner. Although it was kind of ironic, he still liked this song despite all that he'd been through.

 

Castiel entered the room to find Dean singing along and doing an air-drum solo whilst lying down with his eyes closed. “Dean.” he called but was drowned out by the music. “Dean!” he called louder whilst a guitar solo started up – which Dean also managed to sing. “ _Dean!_ ” the Angel shook his Charge's shoulder who then jerked to awareness and promptly fell from the sofa.

 

“Damnnit Cas!” he leaped up and turned the stereo player off. “Gave me a heart attack.”

 

“I don't sense an increased heart beat, I think I merely surprised you.” the Angel said.

 

Dean narrowed his eyes slightly. “I didn't mean it litera- You know what, never mind. Did you want something, anyway, or did ya just want me to be scared to death?” he asked.

 

“It is almost half past five and your brother said to meet him in the plaza at six. I believe we should leave now in order to learn parts of the road layout before meeting with him.” the Seraph informed him; _all efficiency, as ever_ , Dean thought.

 

“Okay, yeah, sure; I'll just grab my coat and then we'll start walking there. See if we can see any other couples – this thing's only killed couples with no kids, right?” Dean asked as he shrugged on his leather jacket.

 

“Yes, only ones with no children and who live in the south of the town. We fit this criteria so we can assume that it will now, also, be looking at us.” Castiel nodded.

 

“Great. Well, come on, we don't want to keep Sammy waiting.” the green-eyed man grinned, holding open the front door and gestured for Castiel to go out and onto the porch.

 

Once out of the door, Castiel took Dean's hand in his own. At the raised eyebrow he simply said “You told me to go with it, so I am.”

 

“Well okay then, angel, let's go.” Dean grinned before leading the Angel down the wooden steps and onto the pavement.

 

Dean wasn't enjoying this.

 

No- he wouldn't _let_ himself enjoy this.

 

 _It's all pretend_ , he reminded himself but if he, maybe, gripped Castiel's hand a little more tightly than was 'friendly' then nobody would ever know. Maybe, just maybe, he also noticed that the Seraph's hand was warmer than was probably normal for a human but Dean put that down to how there was an actual Angel of fire and pure Grace inside that Vessel. He also, maybe, noticed how his hand wasn't as rough as his own, like it had never had to fight or claw its way out from a corner. Dean assumed that's how Jimmy had been and Castiel was simply keeping the body the same as when he had entered it.

 

“Dean, is something wrong?” Castiel turned to look at him.

 

“Wha-?” Dean started and then realised why Castiel was asking: he hadn't moved since walking down the steps. “Uh, no. No. Let's get going, huh?” he tried for a smile but even he could tell it looked false.

 

Maybe this was going to be harder than he had anticipated...

 

The Angel nodded slightly before pulling his hand slightly in order to get him moving.

 

They walked in silence but, surprisingly to Dean, it wasn't uncomfortable. The night air was warm with the sky starting to turn purple in the dusk. Vague smells of the various trees lining the streets and the berries on them drifted in the air making it sweet but not too much. In the distance, Dean could hear birds cooing softly as well as a child laughing.

 

It was weird, everything being so peaceful. Having lived almost his entire life running from place to place or from a monster, Dean found it unnerving but at the same time oddly comforting.

 

However, it was different from when he had stayed with Lisa. That had been awesome, he would admit, but sometimes it had also seemed fake; like he was waiting for it all fall apart. But this... This was a job: he had a set goal but it was still nice.

 

The two walked slowly, still hand-in-hand, towards the centre of the town. The town's structure didn't seem to follow any kind of pattern: there was no grid system and each road seemed to snake off in a different direction. It didn't help the elder Winchester to remember which was which as each house appeared to be a clone of the one next to it and the same kind of trees lined each street.

 

"Dean." Cas said, as if he had been trying to get the human's attention for a while and shaking him from his thoughts.

 

"Huh? Wha-?" Dean shook himself a little and looked to the Angel on his left.

 

"Each couple has been from the south of the town, however, I've noticed that the roads they were living on are going anti-clockwise from the road pointing directly south." Castiel told him. Dean noticed his eyes seemed to shine a little in the low light.

 

Dean shook himself - _again_ \- mentally (when had he turned into a middle school girl, anyway?) before sighing slightly. "Let me guess, we're on the road that'll be hit next, aren't we?"

 

"It would seem so. We will have to determine how many other couples are on the road, too."

 

"Hmm..." They'd managed to reach the town plaza (much to Dean's surprise) and it was no different to the rest of the town.

 

It was quaint but not overly so. There was a small fountain surrounded by flower beds in the centre of the square with a red-brick building with large windows and steps up to the front door that must have been the town hall. To the right of them were a couple of offices and an estate agent while on the left were three shops all boasting 'home-made goods guaranteed!'.

 

"Sam should be meeting us here soon." the Seraph murmured, looking around at all the closed shops. The street lamps were just beginning to flicker on as the - now purple and fading to navy - sky began to darken even further while stars started to shine through.

 

"Hey guys!"

 

"Speak of the devil..." Dean said lightly but received a slight glare from Cas. "Heh, sorry."

 

"Hey- uh...?" Sam had jogged up in slacks and a shirt with no tie with a dress coat thrown over his arm. "Am I missing something?" he was smirking slightly with his eyebrows raised and looking pointedly at their hands.

 

"What are y-" Dean started to say but then realised why his brother was being a World Class Bitch: they were still holding hands. He all but jumped away and pulled away his hand before giving a small smile.

 

"We were, uh, 'playing our parts'." the Angel said, not looking at either of the Winchesters.

 

"Uh huh." Sam was still grinning.

 

“Shut it, bitch.” Dean glared, pointing at his brother.

 

“Sure, jerk. So, how's the house?” Dean swore that if his brother kept grinning at him like that, he was going to put Nair in his shampoo again.

 

“Real quaint, now what did you find?” the older brother grunted.

 

The grin changed into a smug smirk. “Well, I have access to the CCTV around town so I can see if anyone's being suspicious. I have noticed, though, that your street, if my pattern is correct, about to b-”

 

“Yeah, we're probably next; Cas already saw that.” Dean elbowed the Angel lightly.

 

The younger Winchester looked between them. “Okay, well it seems to work it's way up the streets from the south and you're right at the top of the street so we need to find out if anyone else is more at risk. The killings don't seem to follow any pattern, though, no moon cycle or any ancient harvest I can find.” he ran a hand through his hair.

 

“I suppose we can continue to research this; perhaps one of the other residents will know any kind of connection.” Castiel spoke up.

 

“Yeah, maybe you're right, Cas. Anyway, I need to go and actually find my new apartment so I guess I'll see you around.” Sam nodded before heading in the general direction of the north side of town and with a small wave over his shoulder.

 

“See ya, Sammy.” Dean called while the Seraph simply said “Goodbye, Sam.” The green-eyed man turned to Cas then. “Wanna head straight back or see if there's anywhere that does decent take-out?”

 

The Angel blinked at him whilst considering. “It would seem... That in this bound sate my body requires food.”

 

“I'll take that as a yes.” Dean sighed, giving his eyes a small roll.

 

~x~x~x~

 

Twenty minutes later, they were walking back towards their house (home? Dean had no idea) with a bag full of Chinese that, in Dean's opinion, was going to be truly awesome if the smell alone was anything to go by.

 

Sitting at the small table between the kitchen and the living room with containers of various sauces and meats spread about them made Dean squirm a little at how much he was, maybe, sort of, enjoying this. _It's just a case!!!!!!!!!!!!,_ part of him screamed while another part – that he had thought he had locked away – was singing over the top _who cares???? Enjoy yourself, just this once!!!!_ , and he had no idea which side was winning out.

 

After eating, Dean insisted that Castiel had to watch an episode of Star Trek that was being repeated on some random TV channel. The human filled in any points that he thought the Angel might need to know in order to understand the plot and when it had finished he turned bright eyes and a grin on the Angel from the opposite end of the sofa. “So...?” he prompted.

 

The Seraph considered the show and the believability of such a state in human evolution occurring as well as the individual characters and how well they seemed to be developed even in just one episode while trying to ignore the effects used in the show. “It was... Pleasing and each character had it's own quirks, I suppose. I believe I might be able to enjoy it more had I seen the series from the beginning.”

 

“Ooh, done! Every chance I get, you are _watching_ it! There is no backing out now!” his Charge seemed so excited that Castiel gave a small smile in return.

 

Dean glanced at the clock on the wall; it was a quarter to eleven. “Hey, do you need to sleep as well?” he asked.

 

The Angel frowned. _Did he need sleep?_ His eyes felt sore and dry while his mind wasn't as sharp as normal. _Yes_ , he deemed, _he needed sleep_. “Yes, it would appear that my body is growing tired.”

 

The other man clapped his hands together lightly as he stood up and turned off the TV. “Okay then, you take the bed upstairs, there should be some pyjamas in your duffel, and I'll take the couch.” he started to move to grab his duffel from where he had left in the hall to pull on some sweatpants and an old T-shirt to sleep in when Castiel called after him.

 

“Are you sure? I do not mind sleeping on the couch.” the Angel stated.

 

“Dude, last time you slept when you were human you rolled around like it was your job. You take the bed and just hope you don't fall out. Now shift! Go!” Dean told him with his head around the door frame. “I call dibs on the bathroom right now though!” he shouted as he ran up the stairs.

 

~x~x~x~

 

As it turned out, the couch made a better bed than some of the actual beds Dean had slept in in the past. He woke up with his face pressed into a cushion and what sounded like singing ringing in his ears.

 

He lifted his head up to hear better and realised it sounded like it was coming from the kitchen along with the smell of eggs cooking. A quick glance at the clock revealed it was seven in the morning so the Winchester figured it was probably just Cas.

 

The singing, however, sounded like nothing he'd ever before. It was quiet and low – the right pitch for Cas' voice – but it definitely wasn't English. The notes flowed into each other and seemed to form an air of there being an accompaniment although none was actually there. Slightly groggily, Dean got up and padded quietly towards the kitchen. When he looked around the door frame he found Castiel standing in front of the stove wearing his pyjama bottoms (plain blue, just slightly darker than his eyes. DAMNNIT, WHY DID DEAN EVEN _KNOW_ THAT?!??!) and, what looked like, three jumpers. The Angel was also the source of the singing and he continued as he stared at the eggs in the saucepan whilst holding a fork.

 

“Mornin', Cas.” Dean asked, leaning against the wall and grinning.

 

The Seraph jumped slightly and turned to face his Charge. “Good morning, Dean. I did not mean to wake you. I awoke and this body required food.” he said, gesturing to the eggs which he then began to scramble.

 

“Heh, no problem, I had to get up some time, any way. Say, is there enough to share?” the human asked as he looked over the Angel's shoulder.

 

Castiel leaned into Dean's warmth slightly but if the Angel noticed he didn't say anything. Dean, however, did notice even if he tried not to. “I believe there should be. I didn't know how many eggs to use so I used four.”

 

Dean snorted. “Four? Yeah, there should be plenty.” he was glad then that they had picked up some food yesterday after unpacking.

 

When Castiel deemed the eggs scrambled enough – and Dean had made himself some coffee – they sat down to eat and Dean brought up the subject of the number of sweaters the Angel was wearing.

 

“You cold or somethin'?” he gestured to the Seraph with his fork in between bites of his (surprisingly well done) scrambled eggs.

 

Cas seemed to blush slightly. “I was cold. To be truthful, I'm still cold.” he admitted.

 

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Cold? It must be, like, what? Okay, I don't know but it doesn't feel that cold.”

 

“I am largely cut off from my Grace, Dean. I normally 'run hotter' than the Sun.” the Angel replied, even forming the air-quotes around the phrase. “At the moment, I would say my temperature inside this body is closer to that of a nuclear reactor.”

 

Dean whistled slightly. “Well okay then. Whatever your temperature though, we're gonna have to try and find out something more about the case.”

 

“I don't see how my temperature could stop us doing that.”

 

Dean could think of a few ways but those were not things he should think of when actually awake. His brain was against him, of that he was sure. “Just, think of it as a joke.” he put his fork down. “Now come on, we've gotta go see how many other couples might be getting peeled like oranges.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really know where to end this chapter so I stopped it here because it seemed better than letting it become a monster chapter - it's already longer than the others. If that's good or bad, you can decide.
> 
> If you want to know what I was thinking of for Cas' singing then look up 'A Place In Heaven' by Thomas Bergersen. The voice is a woman but use your imagination. ;D
> 
> Okay, I'm gonna start working on the next chapter now: you lucky lucky things.
> 
> ~~MUCH LOVE TO ANYONE READING!!~~


	4. Sacrifice and Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The case starts to reveal more of its secrets and Dean learns that even Angels can get nightmares.

A 'jog' down the street and through some of the next streets to be targeted revealed that there were three couples on Joshua Avenue besides themselves. Two lived further south on the road than Dean and Castiel while another lived a few houses north at number eighteen. One of the couples was Rachel and her husband; Dean hoped they could save her, she seemed nice.

 

As well as them and the couples who could be targeted there was a married couple with two young sons, a single mother with a daughter. A group of four room mates and a young man who worked in town.

 

A quick scout of the next two streets showed that there were two couples on the next street and three on the one after that which turned out to be Maple Road.

 

“Now what do we do? We know the number of couples? Should we try and focus on finding what it is that we're facing?” Castiel asked him as they jogged to a stop at the top of Maple Road and where it connected to... Some other street that looked the same to Dean as all the others. Dean was panting slightly but the Angel looked at stoic as ever.

 

“Yeah, I suppose. I mean, it's gotta be something big if it knows Angel binding and stuff, right?”

 

“I suppose.” Castiel said thoughtfully before a scream put them both on alert. They shared a look before they were both running to where the sound had come from. When they bared left they found a teenage girl crying into the arms of an older woman while two men were standing and staring, obviously shocked, at the bushes that were on the end of the street.

 

“What's happened?” Dean asked, walking closer.

 

“I... I only just got here but- Just look.” one of the men said - he was slightly taller than Dean and his build was larger but at that moment he looked as if a feather could knock him over – and gestured into the bushes.

 

Dean looked over and fought back the urge to gag. In the bushes, partially visible as if it had simply been dumbed there, was a body without its skin. Or hair. Or eyes. And its mouth was open in what looked like a scream showing off its teeth but the lack of a tongue. When Sam had told Dean that these bodies didn't have their skin, Dean had thought it would have been like the skin was sheered from the muscle but this was nothing like that. It looked as if the skin had been pulled away by hands and cut off with a blunt instrument. Parts of the muscles had been taken away with the skin leaving a mangled mess attached to the bones. Blood was dried and crusted along the paths the blade must have taken, especially, but clots also clung to each lacerated piece of muscle that remained clinging to the figure. A quick look at the chest and, yep, there was a gaping hole where the heart had been pulled out but it seemed burnt around the edges.

 

The sight, however, was nothing compared to the smell. No sulphur, so that meant it wasn't demons – count their blessings where they could – but it was the overly sweet smell of a body that had been dead for at least a couple of days. The scent reached into Dean's mind and made him want to either throw up or shoot something.

 

“We've called the police so they should be here soon. I just hope to God they catch whoever is doing this.” the other man said. He was smaller than the other with wire-rimmed glasses and curly hair that looked as if it hadn't been brushed that morning.

 

Dean pulled off his T-shirt and placed it over the body so it covered most of what could be seen of the body. “Yeah, me too.” he agreed. They had to find this thing.

 

~x~x~x~

 

An hour later and Dean was pulling out his phone to leave his brother a voicemail while Castiel opened up Dean's laptop to try and find out what this thing was.

 

The cops had shown up and taken the girl's statement, to which Castiel had listened and told Dean that she had been on the way to buy milk when she had found the body at about nine o'clock. They'd taken away the body to find out who it was but the two hunters and the Angel already knew it would be one of the members of the missing couples.

 

“Sammy, call me back when you get this 'cause another body showed up today. The cops got hold of it so we'll have to find out who it is some way. We're looking for what this thing could be, too.” he hung up and looked back at Cas. “You found anything?”

 

“Nothing for certain but I believe we may be dealing with a god of some sort. I think only they would have this kind of power and it wasn't a werewolf as, despite the heart being gone, it wasn't mauled in a typical lycanthrope fashion.” the Angel looked over at Dean as he spoke. “Fire also seems to have been involved, if the burn marks around the heart are of any indication, so this also could be a ritual. Possibly a sacrifice.”

 

“Great, so some old-world god and ritual sacrifices. If this turns out to be a witch, I'm gonna blow this bitch up.” the elder Winchester growled.

 

Castiel shook his head. “None of this points towards spell work of any kind, Dean.”

 

“Good, because I freaking hate witches.”

 

~x~x~x~

 

The rest of that day was peaceful compared to the events of the morning. Two police officers came around at about three to take statements over what they saw before moving quickly on; all efficiency like Dean had faked too many times to count.

 

At five, while Dean was getting the Angel to watch another episode of Star Trek (it had become Dean's mission to ensure that Castiel, at least, knew everything about The Original Series), the doorbell rang.

 

“I've got it.” Dean said, standing up from the sofa. Castiel shuffled where he sat and pulled his feet up onto the couch next to him.

 

When he opened the door, Dean came face to face with Rachel wearing a fitted shirt with a floral print covering it and a pair of crop-trousers. Her hair was thrown over one shoulder.

 

“Heya, Dean!” she beamed.

 

“Hi Rachel, uh, what's up?”

 

“I'm just coming to tell you that the barbecue is tomorrow and everyone's coming around at about four, 'kay?” she gave him a hopeful look.

 

He grinned back. “Yeah, of course. Me and Cas'll be there.”

 

“Well okay then. See you tomorrow.” she waved to him over her shoulder as she hopped down the steps and as Dean closed the door. When he walked back into the living room, Cas had lounged fully across the sofa on his stomach with his head resting on a pillow that was propped up on the far arm of the couch.

 

“Comfy?” Dean smirked, sitting in the armchair on the other side of the sofa.

 

“I can move if you would like to sit back here.” Cas started to curl up a little and Dean completely didn't watch how the T-shirt showed off the muscles moving in his back as he stretched. Nope.

 

“Nah, I'm fine. You look comfy; I'll be fine over here.” Cas shrugged a little, difficult considering how he was lying, and then stretched back out with the right side of his face still mashed into the cushion. “That was Rachel, by the way, she says we should head around at about four tomorrow.”

 

Cas was all ears now and sat up slightly. “I presume most of the other couples will be there so we should try and see if there are any connections other than them merely not having children.”

 

“Yeah, I say we focus on the one's who are most likely to be hit next so that's that couple down the street.” Dean nodded just before the phone rang; except it wasn't his mobile, it was the landline.

 

Both men stood, Dean picked it up and held it between them so they could both hear. “Hello?” he asked.

 

“Oh, hi, this is Mr Malik from the estate agent. We were just checking in to make sure everything is going all right.” came a deep voice which was tinted with a slight accent. From where, however, Dean couldn't place.

 

“Yeah, hey, it's going awesome. Everyone seems pretty nice. It's a shame about what happened earlier though.” Dean nodded to Cas: not something coming to kill them through the phone.

 

A 'hmmm' echoed through the phone. “Yes, everyone is completely baffled about how it's happening considering the house was locked from the inside and no forced entry.” a slight pause. “Well, as long as you're both settled, we'll stay in touch to make sure you're okay.” and the line went dead.

 

“That's something I didn't know. Locked from the inside and both just disappear from inside. Huh.” Dean put the phone down and turned to the Angel.

 

“No, I did not know this either. You should contact Sam.”

 

“Good idea.” the hunter agreed as he pulled out his mobile. He selected Sam from his (short) list of contacts. After three rings the younger brother picked up.

 

“Dean? What's up; I was just about to call you.” came Sam's voice.

 

“Yeah, a body turned up this morning and we reckon it might be some kind of sacrifice for a god. Cas doesn't think it's witches, though, so that's a bonus, I guess. Anyway, we just found out that the couples' houses were apparently locked from the inside with no signs of forced entry when they disappeared.”

 

“Huh; they didn't mention that in the police reports that I've gone through. I'll call Bobby and see if they said that to him. How did you find that out?” Dean could imagine his brother running a hand through his hair as he thought.

 

“Some guy at the estate agent. Figures he would know, I mean they sell all the houses and who lives in them. There's only one estate agents in town, any way.”

 

“Possibly; I'll have to have a look around after dark, see if I can find anything.”

 

“Okay, see you around Sammy.”

 

“Later, Dean.” the younger Winchester said as he hung up.

 

~x~x~x~

 

That night, Dean insisted upon making burgers and even the Angel admitted that they were good as he reached for a second one. Dean grinned at this, taking a satisfied bite of his own.

 

The hunter once again took to sleeping on the sofa while Cas headed up stairs with a small yawn and a 'Goodnight, Dean' that was threatened by another yawn.

 

Dean had been asleep a couple of hours and it was bordering on half past two the next morning when a loud bang from upstairs had him jumping up and grabbing for the silver knife he had started keeping on the bookcase behind the sofa.

 

He stilled, gripping the knife tightly, and listened. Another crash and he was running up the stairs; it had sounded like it was coming from the bedroom. Dean bust through the door to find that the Angel had thrown off all the covers in a fitful sleep and even managed to knock over both bed-side tables. As the green-eyed man stared on he saw that the Seraph was still asleep and continued to thrash about.

 

Dean dropped the knife and crouched at the side of the bed, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder. “Cas? Cas! Man, you've got to wake up! It's just a nightmare, wake up!” he shook Castiel's shoulder slightly but the Angel continued to turn violently. “Castiel, come on! Snap out of it!” And then both of his forearms were being held so tightly that it could leave bruises and he was face to face with the Angel; his blue eyes wide and the pupils dilated in fear at the fading dream. A white flash seemed to ripple in the depths of the ring of blue that surrounded the pure black. A faint light from the street lamps filtered through the curtains making most of the Seraph's face shrouded in shadows.

 

He seemed to remember himself suddenly then and let go of Dean's arms and moving backwards as their faces had been inches apart. His breaths came in harsh pants. “Dean? I- I'm sorry, I did not mean to cause any worry.”

 

“It's okay, it was just a nightmare. I know feelings and stuff aren't really my strong point, but... Do you want to talk about it?” Dean sat next to the Angel on the bed.

 

Castiel blinked at him before taking a deep breath. “It was... It was when I was sent to Hell to rescue you except, I failed. All of the Angels died on that mission and you... You became a demon.” the Seraph looked at him, then, with such fear in his eyes that Dean thought he could feel the horror rolling off the man next to him.

 

“It's just a nightmare. You did get me out and then we went through a load of crap. Heck, I've still got a hand print on my shoulder showing that you 'gripped me tight and raised me form perdition' or whatever.” Dean said, rolling up his sleeve to reveal the hand shaped welt on his left shoulder whilst pitching his voice lower to imitate the Angel's.

 

Castiel's lips lifted into a small smile at the sight as Dean pulled his shirt sleeve back over the scar.

 

“You okay, now?” Dean asked.

 

“I think so. Thank you, Dean.” the Angel said quietly.

 

“Hey, what're friends for? If you need me, I'm just downstairs.”

 

Dean made a move to stand up but the Seraph caught his arm. “No, stay.” he said and it wasn't a question, then “Please.”

 

Dean swallowed his urge to run. Cas was upset, even if he didn't show it, so he'd help out. Despite all the crap, they were friends, hadn't he just said that? “Yeah, okay, sure.” he mumbled before pulling the covers back onto the bed.

 

Castiel lay underneath the blankets while Dean slept above them but he noticed how the Angel had curled in on himself slightly. After five minutes, Cas was snoring lightly and Dean allowed himself a small smile.

 

 _Maybe angels can dream too_ , he thought.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't expect to get this many chapters after this week; I'm off break and have exams. Give me two weeks and then I should be posting again - PROMISE 'cause I don't wanna stop writing this; it's too much fun!  
> Look at them, it's all schmoopy and I don't know what I'm gonna do with these two... They're killing me...
> 
> I'm not /entirely/ happy with the end but you guys tell me what you think.
> 
> Anyway~~, I hope you still like it and I hope you stick around!  
> LOVE TO MY READERS!! :D


	5. Pessimistic Cases and Pretend Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another development in the case makes things all the more confusing and a barbecue with... Satisfying results.

When Dean opened his eyes he forgot for a second why there was something warm pressed up against his side. He looked over and found a mess of dark hair and that was about all he could see of Castiel who had managed to curl up completely under the covers of the bed until only the top of his head was visible. At some point in the night, Dean had also rolled over to face Castiel whilst sleeping and the Angel was gripping his left shoulder over his T-shirt around where the hand print was.

 

Dean looked over the Angel at the alarm clock and saw it read a quarter past eleven. Crap. He supposed they should probably get up if they were going to go and play suburban families later. He shook what he thought was Castiel's shoulder lightly. “Cas,” his voice came out slightly hoarse so he swallowed and tried again. “Cas, man, we've gotta get up.” he shook the Seraph's shoulder again.

 

The lump moved slightly and then two blue eyes were visible from beneath the dark hair and above the quilt. “But I'm comfortable.” came a muffled response.

 

Dean barked a short laugh; he had kind of expected the Angel to not really be a morning person. “Yeah, well, we've got that barbecue later and we should probably ring Sam and ask if he's found anything else.” He sat up properly and stretched before stepping off the bed and opening the curtains.

 

A groan and rustling came from the bed and Dean turned to find that Castiel had pulled the covers over his head. “You seemed fine yesterday morning, what happened.” he was openly grinning now.

 

“I wanted to get up then.” came a reply that Dean barely heard.

 

“Come on, Cas,” Dean poked the blankets. “You've gotta get up.”

 

“Fine, but the blankets are coming with me.” the Angel sat up, put his feet over the edge of the bed – grimacing slightly as they touched the cold, wooden floor – before holding the quilt around his body.

 

The elder Winchester couldn't help but to laugh. “Okay, Cas, sure.” he started to move out of the room and could here Castiel following behind him. “You were fine yesterday, I mean, you were even _singing_. I never asked but, what was that even about?” he looked over as they reached the kitchen and the Seraph refused to make eye-contact and a slight tinge of pink seemed to appear on his cheeks. Dean put it down to all of the layers.

 

“It is normal for members of the Host to raise their voices in song. Despite not strictly being a member of the Host any longer, I do still keep some of the traditions.” he explained as Dean put four rounds of bread in the toaster.

 

“Huh, never really pictured you as the singing type, I guess. I mean, fluffy white wings and harps are one thing...” Dean trailed off whilst flicking on the coffee machine. “What was it about anyway? It was Enochian, right?”

 

Castiel definitely blushed then and started to pick at the edge of one of the blankets wrapped around him. The hunter thought that bound like this, Castiel seemed to becoming more human. “It was a song about family and belonging. It was sung often in Heaven.”

 

Passing a cup of coffee to the Angel before picking up the toast and buttering it, Dean snorted slightly. “For beings who were not meant to have emotion, you do have some sappy songs.”

 

Castiel looked almost hurt when Dean next looked over. “We are not meant to be completely devoid of emotion. If anything, we are beings of love. We are meant to love God, our brothers and sisters and humanity. Of course, we were not permitted free-will like you were so we never experienced anything besides loyalty and love until...”

 

“Until now. Don't worry, sometimes emotions suck. Rejection's a bitch; you're not missing much.”

 

The Angel's look turned darker. “Dean, you don't understand what a luxury free-will is. Simply being able to choose the missions I go on is like nothing I have been able to do in all of my existence. I would take any emotion, good or bad, over not being able to feel anything other than that which I have been ordered to feel.” he closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Tell me, Dean, do you believe me to be emotionless?” he turned to Dean with a look that reminded the human of a lost puppy.

 

“What? No. No! I mean, okay, maybe you're a little odd but I don't think you're emotionless.” the elder Winchester motioned for Cas to sit down at the table where he had placed a plate with two of the pieces of toast on it. “Heck, I'm no good with emotions and stuff but even I can see that you're trying.”

 

After pouring himself a cup of coffee and grabbing the other plate, Dean sat down opposite Cas who was now eating but with a distant look in his eyes. Sighing, the hunter figured he had to say something. “I didn't mean to insult you or anything.”

 

The Seraph looked up. “I'm not insulted I just find it... Confusing how people can hate emotions that make them who they are.”

 

“Okay, well, that's way too deep for me. Ask Sammy, he'll probably have some really philosophical answer that involves an ancient Greek guy with a name I can't pronounce.” the elder Winchester called over his shoulder as he placed his mug and plate in the sink. “Hey, do you want the shower first while I wash up?” he asked.

 

Castiel thought for a moment; no, his Grace was bound so he would need to maintain his hygiene in a typical human way. “Yes, I would appreciate that, thank you.”

 

~x~x~x~

 

Castiel was reading... Something Dean didn't know when he finally called his brother. Given that it was Saturday, he presumed he was probably off.

 

“I'm gonna guess you've only just gotten up.” Sam said when he picked up.

 

“Oh, good morning to you, too.” Dean quipped back.

 

“It's one o'clock, Dean.” called Castiel from on the sofa.

 

“Hey, you're the one who wouldn't get out of bed.” the elder Winchester all but hissed to which Castiel smiled slightly.

 

Sam laughing through the receiver brought Dean's attention back to the phone in his hand. “Trouble in paradise?” his brother asked and Dean could practically _hear_ the smirk, like he knew how Dean felt about the Angel and was just taunting him. _Knowing my luck_ , Dean thought, _he probably does know. Well, crap._

 

“Shut it, Samantha. Did you go to the estate agents last night?” he grumbled, sitting in the armchair.

 

“Yeah, there wasn't much there, to be honest. I found the head agents office, uh, Mr Malik, I think?”

 

“Yeah, that's the guy who spoke to us yesterday. Anything weird?” Dean added.

 

“Well, no, every office but his was just blank. His, though, was decorated with wooden masks and a couple of old tapestries. They looked African to me, I don't know if that's any help.” Sam said a little hopefully.

 

“I dunno, I guess we'll just have to keep looking. I don't get why the other offices would be blank, though.”

 

“No, I didn't either, so I looked up a couple of the other agents and, get this, some of them are almost exactly clones of people who have gone missing over the past _year_ and when these people disappeared, so did the person they were currently seeing.” the younger Winchester sounded a little smug but also confused at what he'd found.

 

Dean just stared at nothing for a moment. “Okay, well I think we should keep tabs on this guy, see if he's up to anything suspicious. I just wish we had something more to go on for _what_ this is, now that we might have a _who_.”

 

“Yeah, me too. Anyway, I have to go; I'm going out with some people from town, see what else I can find out about the missing couples. Bye, Dean.”

 

“Bye, Sammy.” the older brother said before hanging up. “Sam reckons he's found something else.” he sat down at the other end of the sofa from Cas.

 

The Angel looked up from his book and waited for Dean to continue.

 

“Apparently some of the people who work in the estate agents look like people who have been disappearing over the past year in similar circumstances.”

 

Castiel looked thoughtful for a moment. “Perhaps he can find a link between those couples and these ones. A pattern may appear now that we have a larger scale to look at.” he tilted his head slightly.

 

“I just want to find out what's going on...” Dean flicked on the television to find the very first episode of _Doctor Sexy MD_ playing and he all but freaked; besides _Star Trek_ , Cas had to see this. “Cas, man, you need to watch this.” he elbowed the other man gently to get his attention and was waving his other hand at the TV.

 

“This is the show that Sam makes fun of you for watching, correct?”

 

“Yeah, but who cares. Come on, it's the _very first one_ ; no story to catch up on or anything.” Dean was lounging across the other end of the sofa and watching the TV with rapt attention.

 

The Angel sighed a little but placed his book on the coffee table as the main character walked onto the screen. “I remember him from Gabriel's TV Land.”

 

“Yeah, that's Doctor Sexy himself.” Dean's voice was slightly wistful. He didn't speak or move again until the episode was over.

 

~x~x~x~

 

At five to four, and two and a half episodes of _Doctor Sexy_ , later, Dean and Castiel were leaving the house to go to the barbecue that Castiel had gotten them into. Dean admitted it would be useful to go to but he still wasn't looking forward to it.

 

Dean had pulled on an old _AC/DC_ T-shirt with a red over-shirt and non-ripped jeans while Cas had donned a dark blue button up and black jeans that clung a little to his legs - not that Dean noticed, or anything.

 

“Come here, you look to formal.” Dean said to the Angel who just tilted his head. “Um, here, undo your cuffs and roll up your sleeves.” Castiel did and then Dean considered him again. “Undo the top couple of buttons and un-tuck the shirt.” Again, the Seraph did and the hunter looked him up and down again before nodding. “Yeah, come on then, let's go.”

 

They were greeted at Rachel's door by a sign saying 'party's in the back yard! come on through!'. From the door they went to the gate that lead to the back garden and when they pushed it open they found that quite a few people had already arrived and the smell of cooking meat was heavy in the air. Beyond the gate and further towards the back they could hear children laughing and the sound of running on grass.

 

“Dean! Cas! I'm so glad you could make it!” Rachel gave both of them a hug when they walked into the back yard. “Be careful, though; the Kennedy's sons have their water guns.” she gave them a small smile before leading them through to the open yard.

 

There was a raised patio to their right where the barbecue was with, who Dean assumed was, Rachel's husband next to it. At one of the tables on the patio were two women and another man with a girl, who could have been no older than six, sitting on the steps with a book in her hands. Two boys, aged about seven and ten, were running across the short grass and hiding behind the trees at the back of the garden next to the fence whilst firing water guns at each other. Four people who could have been no older than twenty were sitting on the grass and talking.

 

The first to notice the two newcomers was a man at the patio table who waved as they came up the steps. When they reached the occupied table, he reached out to shake both their hands. “Hey, I'm Harold Kennedy and this is my wife Donna. Our son's are John and Luke.” he said with a bright smile. He had short, brown hair that was combed back off his face. The short sleeves of his polo shirt showed the tattoos down his arms. His wife was plump with a warm smile; her blonde hair was straight and fell to about her chin.

 

Dean shook his hand first. “I'm Dean, this is Cas. It's great to meet you all.” he nodded to everyone.

 

“Well, you know me but this is my husband, Daniel,” she gave him a quick kiss. Dean recognised him as the man from the day before with curly hair – that _had_ been brushed that day – and thin glasses. “And that's Janice with her daughter Heather.” she nodded to the other side of the table to the woman with black hair in a pony tail and a tank top showing off her deeply tanned skin. Her daughter shared her skin tone and hair colour but her face was rounder while her mother's was quite angular. Whilst they had been speaking, Heather had run up to her mother and was talking to her about her book.

 

“I don't think we've met?” came a voice from behind Dean and he turned to come face to face with one of the group from on the grass. “I'm Toby.” he grinned and he pushed his ginger hair out of his eyes and then shook Dean's hand. He was pale, with round, brown eyes and heavy freckles across his cheeks and nose. “On the grass in Jenny, but call her Jen,” he motioned to the group on the grass. Jen was laughing at something one of the other two boys had said to her and had pixie cut, black hair as well as piercings lining her ears. Her T-shirt sported the cover for an album by a band Dean didn't know as well as wearing ripped jeans. “On her right is Chris,” Chris was dressed in a white T-shirt with a faded beach picture on it and shorts. He had dark skin and closely cut, black hair. “And then the other guy's Jack.” Jack was a bigger build than the others with his vest top clinging to his back. He had longer, blonde hair pulled back into a short ponytail but the sides of his head had his hair braided before being pulled back.

 

“It's nice to meet you.” Dean smiled as he said a phrase he figured he was going to be saying a lot that night.

 

~x~x~x~

 

Other people filtered into the garden over the course of the evening and into the night. Dean was trying to keep up with who everyone was but Castiel found it fairly simple. Dean would probably say he was 'cheating' as he could see their souls and not just there outward appearance but the Angel found it easier to recognise souls than faces.

 

He looked over to where Dean was standing talking to Helen, a woman from the next road over, and regarded his soul. It was by the far the brightest of the gathered group and shone with love and devotion. Castiel wondered how Dean would respond if the Angel were to ever tell him this.

 

Or if he were to tell him that he had loved him more than the rest of humanity since pulling him from the Pit.

 

Castiel shook off that thought; Dean would never reciprocate his feelings – for one thing he wasn't attracted to males and, technically, Castiel didn't even have a gender. He was a supernatural entity that Dean would never admire in any other way than friendship. Letting his mind wander to thoughts like this would just give Castiel a false sense of hope.

 

“Excuse me, Mister?” came a small voice from beside him, bringing him out of his thoughts.

 

The Seraph looked over to find the younger Kennedy son, Luke, looking up at him. Castiel tilted his head. “Can I help you?”

 

“My gun's stopped working and I can't see my dad. Do you know how to fix them?” he held out the brightly coloured toy to Castiel who regarded it carefully.

 

“It would appear it has a pump.” the Angel took the gun and pointed to the slide. He slid it back and forth a few times before handing it back. “This should work now; your brother is over by the patio beside Helen.” Castiel gave the boy a small smile.

 

Luke, however, didn't brighten up. “I can never hit him; it's not fair.” he whined.

 

The Angel considered the boy and was reminded of times Gabriel would pull a prank on him and not being able to retaliate. With a small twinge of mischief pulsing through his Grace, Castiel decided to help the boy. After being a strategist in Heaven, a water gun fight should be fairly easy, he reasoned. From the bench he was sitting on, he believed the gun should be able to propel the water the distance to the other boy. Castiel held the gun as if it were an actual fire arm and then guided the boy's hands to hold it in the same way. “Make sure you can see your brother across the top of the gun so as you know where to fire. Once you believe you have aimed, you will need to pull the trigger as hard as you can to get the right amount of pressure.”

 

Luke nodded. “Do it with me, just in case?” he asked, his brown eyes wide.

 

Castiel gave a small nod and continued holding the toy while the young boy placed his hands over the Angel's. When he had moved the gun around a little, he pulled the trigger and a stream of water shot forward.

 

It was going perfectly fine; the water propelling across the metre and a half of space between the boys when something the Seraph didn't expect to happen, did happen – Dean moved slightly to his right and straight in front of the jet of water. It hit him fully in the chest and he froze.

 

“Oops.” Luke whispered as Dean looked over to find Castiel and the youngest Kennedy holding the gun.

 

Castiel saw Dean say something to Helen, who was smothering her giggling, before starting to walk over. “You should go and continue playing with your brother.” he said and Luke ran away.

 

“You having fun, Cas?” Dean smirked, despite being soaking wet and sitting next to the Seraph on the bench.

 

“Keep it PG!” the two heard Jen shout over which received a few whoops of laughter.

 

Castiel didn't understand but didn't bring it up. “Yes, it has been quite pleasant. I apologise about your shirt.”

 

Dean grinned, throwing his arm across the back over the bench and around Castiel's shoulders. “Ah, it's fine. It's only water.” They were silent then for a moment before Dean whispered. “Hey, play along, okay?”

 

The Seraph was about to ask with what when Dean's lips were pressed against his. It wasn't urgent but calm, warm and soft; everything Dean's soul was to Castiel and it made him feel loved, even if it was pretend.

 

The Angel let himself have this moment and tried to remember everything about it.

How Dean held his jaw lightly.

How his own hands had ended up in Dean's hair.

How warm Dean was pressed against him.

 

If Castiel enjoyed it, then nobody needed to know.

 

He would let have himself have this moment, he reasoned, before letting go. Or at least, he would try.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is my favourite chapter so far. I hope you guys like Castiel's POV as much as I like it...  
> I think it's my favourite because it has case stuff and schmoop. Yeah...
> 
> But just look at these idiots! 'I love him but he'd never feel the same! D: ' - oh, we'll just have to fix that at some point, won't we? *wiggles eyebrows*
> 
> Anyway, I have /no/ idea when the next chapter will be up so I hope this is okay until I do get the next one up which could not be for a while... Damn exams...
> 
> LOVE TO ALL MY READERS!!! <3 
> 
> And it anyone is interested, my tumblr is bakura-reads-yaoi, just an fyi...


	6. Sam Winchester the Third Wheel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A deadline to try and stop whatever's going on and Sam contemplates being a third wheel to a couple who refuse to be a couple.
> 
> In other words, it's just another day for Samuel Winchester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I realise this is late Season 6 and I've said that Dean still has the hand print while it was (apparently) healed at the end of Season 5 when Cas healed Dean (as you don't see the hand print again, starting at 6x03) but you know what?  
> SCREW CANON!!!  
> *FLIPS TABLE* (ノ ゜Д゜)ノ ︵ ┻━┻  
> HE WILL STILL HAVE THE HAND PRINT BECAUSE I BELIEVE IT IS IMPORTANT!!!
> 
> Okay, sorry, back to the silliness...

 

Dean groaned as his head lolled back, landing on the pillow beneath him.

 

“What is it that you want, Dean?” came the gruff voice from Castiel who was placing kisses along his collar bone. “What do you want me to do?”

 

“Ah, fuck, Cas.” the hunter groaned as his hips jerked upwards in search of some kind of friction.

 

“Is that what you want, Dean?” Cas spoke just beside his ear, grinding down as he did so releasing a moan from both of them.

 

Before the elder Winchester could reply, however, Castiel was speaking again but it seemed further away; “Dean? Dean? You need to wake up. Dean!”

 

Dean sat bolt upright; now fully conscious and aware. Castiel was standing beside the sofa looking down at him with mild concern. “Huh? What is it?” Dean rubbed his eyes and noted that, thankfully, the covers were still over him and hiding his _problem_.

 

“You were tossing about in your sleep and I believed you to be having a nightmare.”

 

Dean resisted the urge to say 'Far from it' and instead mumbled “Yeah, thanks.”

 

“I am heading out; Lillian invited me to go to the Church last night so I will be heading out, unless... You would like to come with me?” the Angel didn't look at him as he asked, but instead at a point just over his right shoulder.

 

After the kiss last night, they had been all business. The conversations had been light but mainly with other people rather than each other. The two had returned to their house at around ten and Castiel had bid Dean good night quickly before going up the stairs. The hunter vaguely wondered if he had made the Seraph uncomfortable with his actions but the Angel had seemed practically enthusiastic the previous night.

 

“No, I'm, uh, good, thanks.” the green-eyed man said, running a hand through his short hair.

 

“I will see you later then. I believe they will probably mention the couples during the Mass; if any more information about them surfaces I will let you know as soon as I can.” Castiel nodded before leaving, the door closing with a loud _thunk_ after him.

 

Dean thought back to how eager the Angel had seemed eager to 'play along' the night before and allowed himself a small moment of wondering that if - if something in his life, for once (!), would go right – that, maybe, Castiel returned his feelings and was just hiding them away just how Dean was hiding away his own feelings.

 

He barked a laugh into the silence of the house; a harsh sound that sounded even worse given that his throat was still dry from sleep. “Yeah, you can dream.” he grumbled to himself before standing up and stretching. The elder Winchester weighed up his current priorities; he was hungry, but not overly so – he had been eating burgers, hot dogs, nachos with dip and other such food until he had left the party – and needing a shower, which would also help with the left-over thoughts of his dream that his body was, apparently, reluctant to let go of, if he was judging by how hard he still was.

 

Dean decided to shower first and eat later; if the lower half of his body had a bigger say in the decision than the top half, well, that was for him to deal with.

 

~x~x~x~

 

The elder Winchester was finishing off his second cup of coffee in front of the laptop with a page loaded on gods of Africa who had expected sacrifices (there were far too many for Dean to cope with before eleven in the morning) when his phone began to ring. Thankful for the distraction, Dean picked up the phone and held it to his ear. “Yeah?”

 

“Dean! Bobby's found it!” Sam practically shouted down the phone.

 

Dean pulled the phone away from his ear for a second before placing it back against his ear. “Found what, Sammy?”

 

“The death pattern.” the older brother could imagine the bitchface Sam would have been pulling it could see him; it would be the one that stated 'my-brother-is-an-idiot-who-can't-even-follow-a-case'. “It follows when Jupiter is brightest in the sky. The dates match up to when Jupiter can be seen clearly in the sky above north Africa.”

 

“So, we're betting it's the estate agent?” the older brother asked, looking out over the small garden after placing his mug in the sink.

 

“Given the creepy office, the cycle and everything, I'm gonna say we keep in eye on him just in case.” Sam spoke quietly, like he was still thinking. A moment of silence passed between them while they both thought over the odd case and then “So, how are things in suburbia?”

 

Dean chuckled lightly. “Not too bad, I guess. It could be a lot worse; I mean there was a barbecue last night and we got to meet some of the other potential targets. The next couple, if the pattern carries on, says they only met the other couples a few times. I seriously don't see any connection.”

 

“Nah, me neither. Anyway... How's Cas?”

 

The elder hunter froze. He could act normal. Sam wouldn't know anything was up from just his voice, or at least, Dean was _relatively_ sure of that. “He's fine. People seem to think he's okay and he got invited to go to the Church this morning. Speaking of which, he'll probably be back soon.” Dean glanced at the cluck. Twenty past eleven, the Angel should be back any minute.

 

“You two getting along okay?” Dean could sense the air of hesitation in his brother's voice.

 

The elder Winchester glared at the phone as if it were his younger sibling. “What's that supposed to mean?” he growled.

 

“What? Nothing! You just, uh, seemed a little tense the other day.” Sam tried to laugh lightly to cover up his unease.

 

“No, Sammy. We're fine, trust me.” Dean assured his brother. “Just peachy.”

 

“You know that if, uh, you have anything you need to tell me you alwa-”

 

“Sam; drop it. We're fine. Everything is fine.”

 

“Okay, yeah sure, but I am here, you know.” the younger brother spoke over Dean's groan of exasperation.

 

“Yeah, okay Sammy. I'll talk to you if I find anything else.” he hung up after Sam's brief 'Bye' and slumped back in front of the computer.

 

 _He doesn't know_ , Dean told himself but he wasn't exactly sure that he believed it.

 

~x~x~x~

 

As Sam put down his phone, he sighed. His brother was emotionally constipated and he had no idea how to get him over his pining for the Angel.

 

Two and a half years.

 

_Two and a half years._

 

That was how long Sam had felt like he needed a shower after every time his brother and the Seraph had exchanged looks across the room; whether the other was looking their way or not.

 

Sam reasoned there was only so many times he could say 'I'm going to the library' or 'We're almost out of food; I'll be back later' and leave for over an hour whilst they were both in that week's dingy motel room before it started to get ridiculous.

 

They'd past the 'it's ridiculous now' point two years ago and Sam was still stuck with two idiots who wouldn't sack up and get over their conflicts in order to be happy.

 

It was driving the younger Winchester nuts.

 

All Sam wanted was for them both to be happy, and if that meant them being together then, so be it, he would be happy for them.

 

_If they'd just get past the longing glances._

 

Sighing as he sat down, Sam shook his head at his absent brother before pulling his laptop into his lap and opening the chart Bobby had sent him about Jupiter's appearances in the sky. Eyes lazily wandering over the dates, he did a double take at the line for the next day. The positioning of Jupiter the next night was the same as when other couples had disappeared.

 

Grabbing his phone again, hurriedly, Sam brought up Dean's number and hissed “Come on, come on!” while it dialled and rang.

 

“I told you, Sammy, we're fine, hones-”

 

“Dean, shut up and listen: the next couple is gonna go missing tomorrow.”

 

His older brother's breath hitched on the other side of the line. “Are you sure?”

 

“That's what the chart says; Jupiter will be in the same position in the sky as when others have gone missing.” Sam rushed. “I still have no idea what this is, though. The bodies don't seem the same as those sacrificed to any African god; north or south.”

 

“We'll... We'll just have to be around them somehow. When did the others disappear?” Sam could hear the hard edge setting into Dean's voice that he always got when a hunt was getting serious.

 

“People said they saw them go home that night and then in the morning they were just... Gone.” the younger hunter sighed. There had, reportedly, been no blood, no signs of a struggle and the houses had been locked from the inside.

 

“So a stake out then. Okay, me and Cas have got it. You keep looking into this Malik guy.”

 

“Sure, see you later.” Sam hung up and grabbed his jacket, heading for the door. It was Sunday so the estate agents should be locked up and easy to get in to – he was going to check Malik's office again and see if he had missed anything incriminating.

 

Sam shut the door to his apartment with a snap and turned to find Malcolm just coming out of his own apartment. Malcolm worked in an office above the estate agents doing something that Sam didn't know.

 

They had been out together with some of the other residents of the small apartment building last night; Sam had learnt that his father was from Egypt while his mother was from America and his father had moved to Seattle at the age of twenty two. He had dark skin over a fairly small frame. His dark hair seemed dull above his brown eyes that had thick glasses over them. The younger Winchester also knew that he had two brothers – one older and one younger – as well as a younger sister.

 

“Uh, hey Sam, you seem a little worried, you okay?” the smaller man asked as they both started walking down the steps.

 

“No, it's just a family thing. My brother's being an idiot, that's all.” Sam sighed. He felt bad lying to Malcolm so he offered up a different problem than the one immediately causing his distress.

 

“Younger or older? Honestly, both are a pain.” he sighed and pushed his glasses slightly further up his nose.

 

“Older.” A small pause. “Well, okay, so I think he has a thing for his best friend who I'm pretty sure likes him back but he's not getting the hint.” he stopped next to the stairs on the ground floor.

 

“Well, have you tried telling him that he should just give it a go?” Malcolm suggested.

 

Sam's sigh was long. It felt good to finally talk to someone about this. “I try but he'll just cut me off. I don't know if it's because this friend is a guy, although I'm pretty sure he bats for both teams any way, he's just not letting anyone in.”

 

“Sounds like he just needs some space. Give him time and I'm pretty sure he'll get his head out of the sand.” Malcolm clapped his hand on Sam' shoulder lightly with a small smile.

 

“God, I hope it's soon – I can't take it any more.” Sam chuckled lightly as they began walking again.

 

“So where you heading? I'm taking Jessie's jacket back to her. She left it at Darren's last night and he's working so... Yeah.” Malcolm lifted the light, canvas jacket to show Sam. “Guess we're both third wheeling, huh?” he gave a slight smile that indicated he'd rather do anything other than be a third wheel.

 

“Yeah, I suppose. I'm heading over to the office. Gareth called me in. Something's tripped the circuits by the sounds of it but he can't get it working.” Sam rolled his eyes in false exasperation.

 

“Well, have fun doing that. I'll see you around.” Malcolm waved over his shoulder as he turned down the road on their right.

 

The younger Winchester returned the small wave before heading left and towards the town square.

 

~x~x~x~

 

Breaking into the estate agent's through the back door took Sam about five minutes. The lock was old and he was pretty sure using a rolled-up piece of paper would probably have opened the door.

 

The back corridor was dark with cardboard boxes piled next to the door. There was a musty smell in the air like damp and moss that made Sam's nose wrinkle. The lighting was fairly dark, considering it could have only been about noon, as there were no windows in the back corridor.

 

To Sam's right was a small room with a photocopier and a shelf with stacks of paper. Closing the door again quietly – despite there being no one there to disturb, Sam felt that breaking the silence would be too jarring; even if the silence weighed down on the hunter as if it were a physical being – and turned left. The next corridor held three more doors, the closest one, Sam knew, was Mr Malik's office.

 

Opening the door and closing it again behind him with the slightest _shup_ , Sam turned to the office and flicked on the light. There were no windows and the dark wood surfaces and cream walls that, Sam supposed, had meant to make the room look warm, simply made it feel claustrophobic and dark; whether the light was on or not.

 

Mahogany bookcases stretched on both sides of the door to the wall and in front of the door was a matching desk with three chairs around it. Two plain ones facing it and a larger one, with a red cushioned seat and back, was behind the desk. Adorning the walls were four tapestries in total, each a different but rustic colour and had scenes woven into them. Set upon the desk was a computer as well as a small vase with wilting flowers in it. Behind the desk was a mirror to give an air of there being more space than there actually was.

 

The other offices Sam had seen had been of the same sort of layout – desk, three chairs, mirror behind the desk and a computer with the same cream walls and dark carpet – but this one had a little more... _Character_ , Sam supposed, even if it was a little unnerving.

 

“Okay...” Sam muttered and made his way to the other side of the desk. The last check through this office had turned up nothing but a few personal profiles that showed the clone-like employees and when they had been hired. Now, however, when Sam opened the bottom draw on the left hand side of the desk, four long vials rolled towards him.

 

Taking them from the draw and placing them on the desk, Sam studied them. Each was filled with a thick, red substance that was starting to congeal towards the bottom.

 

 _Blood_ , Sam realised. They were filled with blood.

 

Holding one of them up against the light again, Sam peered into the liquid. Blinking and looking again, the younger Winchester realised there was something else in there. Grimacing slightly, he opened the vial's top and peered down. There was a long, string like... _Things_ in the blood and they stretched from the top of the vial to the bottom. Pulling one of them from the vial, Sam resisted the urge to throw up.

 

Heart tendons. There were freaking _heart tendons_ in the vial too.

 

“Yeah...” Sam grumbled, closing the vial and putting them all back in the draw. “You're totally our guy. But still, _what_ are you?”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, I have exams again starting /tomorrow/ so this could be the last chapter for a while. If I can write between my exams then you can bet I will! I'm really enjoying writing this and I hope you guys like reading it!  
> I also like writing for Sam, I might have to do some more of that...
> 
> LOVE AND SPRINKLES AND ALL THAT JAZZ TO ALL OF YOU STILL WITH ME!!!
> 
> [[oh yeah, and I might be a little (read as: not really) sorry for teasing you at the start. oops.]]  
> [[also, we're over 500 hits!! I feel so loved!! (*≧∀≦*) ]]


	7. Angels Have Feelings Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean learns a little more about how Angels interact with each other, Bobby has to get involved with the case and the stakeout ends worse than was planned...

Castiel returned from the morning Mass with no, particularly helpful, information. The missing couples had only been briefly mentioned and no one could tell him much about the couples other than the usual 'we're so worried', 'they were so nice' and 'we all hope that those still missing don't end up like... You know'. The Angel found getting information without his Grace exhausting and repetitive. He wondered how Sam and Dean managed it on a fairly regular basis.

 

“Dean?” he called out as he closed the door.

 

“In here.” came his Charge's voice from the direction of the kitchen.

 

Cas entered the kitchen and adjoining dining room to find Dean laying out an assortment of weapons from the back of the Impala. “Heya, Cas.” he nodded without looking up. His duffel lay discarded on the floor with the contents emptied out. Glancing at the table, the Angel noticed that the hunter had weapons that could kill practically anything he had ever faced. Closest to Castiel were four stakes from various trees each dipped in blood, then moving across the table and to his right were three silver knives and a silver dagger with an ivory handle, then there was Dean's handgun and sawed off shotgun with two boxes full of, what Cas presumed were, salt rounds. After those came an iron chain and the demon knife that Ruby had given them before betraying the Winchesters. At the furthest end of the table was a small collection of hex bags. As the Seraph watched, Dean placed an Angel blade on the table before straightening up and turning to face the other man.

 

“Do we need all of this to kill what we are hunting?” Castiel asked, head tilted slightly.

 

“Nah; Sam's still got no idea what it is and I've got no clue either. I've just got a bit of everything and am hoping for the best.” Dean shook his head slightly with a sigh.

 

“'Hope for the best'? Surely we are not going to confront this monster without truly knowing what it is?” the Angel frowned.

 

“What? Oh, no not really but, well, we're going on a stake out tomorrow night; Sam reckons the next couple will go missing then according to some chart of Jupiter or something, so if we can get this thing at least wounded, then we can find out what it is and gank it for good.” the hunter looked back at the table and the collection of weapons there. “I just hope it's enough to at least damage this freaking thing... Anyway, did you learn anything new with the Earthly God Squad?”

 

“I don't understand if that is even a reference,” Castiel narrowed his eyes slightly. “But no, there was no new evidence that came to light that could aid us.”

 

“Well shit, we're just gonna have to play it by ear then, I guess.” the elder Winchester returned to facing the table. “Tomorrow, I say we head over towards, uh... It was Carlton, right? Fiona and Darrell Carlton? Yeah, we'll head down towards their house at around dusk. They're across from the small park so we can sit in there and keep an eye on the house.”

 

“I simply hope that we can catch whatever is attacking these people.” the Angel said thoughtfully.

 

“Sammy reckons he has a _who_ – I mean, the guy apparently had heart tendons, fucking _heart tendons_ , in his office so we're pretty sure it's this guy – but no _what_ , yet. Sam says Bobby's looking into it too but they're both drawing a blank.” the hunter rubbed a hand over his face in apparent exhaustion.

 

“Then I believe you are correct in being prepared for everything.” the Seraph stated solemnly.

 

~x~x~x~

 

“I still don't see how any of this is fitting together, boy. None of it points to anythin' I've ever heard of. A god seems like the best bet but none of it fits one; from any culture.” Bobby's gruff voice came through the speaker on Sam's phone while the younger hunter tapped away on his laptop looking at the latest police reports.

 

“I know, it's just weird. Has some god changed their style to fit modern times or do you think it could be more than one god working together?” Sam asked; scanning the autopsy report revealed that the skin had been taken off while the person was still alive, the younger Winchester shuddered.

 

A bark of a laugh followed by “The way gods play? Nah, it ain't two together. I'm bettin' that it's one who's tryin' to hide what he really is. Sneaky son of a bitch.” Bobby grumbled.

 

“Hang on... Uh, here it says that as well as the hearts being missing the spaces where they should have been on the bodies had, ugh... Charred seeds and children's teeth there instead.” Sam was hating whatever this was the more the case went on.

 

Bobby sighed on the other end of the phone. “This ain't like anythin' I've heard of. I'll keep lookin' but I ain't makin' you idjits any promises.”

 

“Okay, thanks Bobby.” Sam hung up and brushed his hair out of his eyes. Going over the reports again only resulted in making Sam feeling sick with no new information that made him grouchy.

 

It had been a while since a hunt had been this complicated and it was starting to get under the younger hunter's skin. Even the business with Angels had been fairly simple: be possessed by Satan, fight your brother who would be hollowed out by an Archangel whilst destroying the world in the process. Simple.

 

This hunt, however, was turning up nothing that Sam could use and he hated it.

 

Sighing, he returned to looking up the characteristics of African gods to see if _anything_ was similar to the lore he had managed to find.

 

~x~x~x~

 

Monday began with Dean double, triple an quadruple checking that he had everything in his duffel that he would need to kill basically anything he had ever seen. He took out the packet of matches he had and placed them next to the small salt container on the counter in the kitchen. They'd take them as well. Just in case.

 

Having seen what Castiel was like in the morning, Dean pre-emptively turned on the coffee machine and made sure that there was enough for at least two cups which should, Dean reasoned, be enough to turn Mr Tight-Wings into regular, if slightly odd, Castiel; angel of the Lord.

 

Dean smirked slightly, pouring his own coffee. How had his life ended up like this? He was playing house with an Angel who he completely and utterly had no _feelings_ for. Of course, his entire life had been filled with all things odd, gruesome and going bump in the night but when he had told Sam, all those years ago, that _'Dad's on a hunting trip and hasn't been home in a few days'_ , the Winchester had not expected for Sam to join him hunting again, technically die in a car crash and lose his father to the same demon who took his mother. Never expected for his brother to be psychic and for a freaking _Hell Gate_ to open. Dean had never expected to need to sell his soul to get his brother back, to get dragged to Hell and then dragged back out again by the Angel upstairs to do _'God's work'_ only to, later, find out that everything had been organised, schemed and plotted by other Angels. And then the Hell Bitch had been back and his little brother had raised Lucifer. That year had been bad; the Apocalypse bearing down on them with Michael trying to wear Dean to prom while Sammy had almost ended up as a meat suit for the Devil. Not to mention meeting Death in Chicago. How all of that ended still made the elder hunter's jaw clench and feel like he wanted to hit whatever was closest; something about seeing your brother and your half-brother, both having a winged douchebag kicking about inside of them, jumping into the Pit would do that to you, the hunter guessed. Staying with Lisa and Ben had been some of the best months of Dean's life but, as always, the _job_ had caught up. Being Crowley's bitch had weighed down on the elder Winchester but Sam without a soul had not been... Sam. Eve the _Mother of All_ was still fucking with everything in creation and now Cas had some angelic war to fight on top of everything else and Dean wondered how things could get any more bizarre.

 

 _'Angels are watching over you.'_ Mary would always smile before kissing him goodnight. Now he had a – currently bound – Angel to watch over himself as well as the brother he had ran from a burning house with so many years ago.

 

If she could see them... What would she think? Dean thought his first words would probably be 'I'm so sorry' if he were to ever see her again. He had failed to save so many. People he loved all for the sake of _the family business_.

 

“Dean, you need to stop doubting yourself.”

 

Said man turned to find Castiel huddled into pyjama bottoms with three jumpers and a jacket on. “What?” was all he could get out.

 

“I may be cut off from the majority of my Grace but I can still see your soul and at the moment it is clouded with self-doubt and almost hatred directed towards yourself. You are a good man, Dean Winchester, do not ever believe anything different.” the Angel told him, scowling slightly and invading the hunter's personal space.

 

Dean nodded. He wanted to bite back a 'but I can't save as many as I need to' or 'I end up letting everyone down, anyway' but he held his tongue. The others proximity might have had something with how he froze, especially when the Seraph leaned in closer; energy crackling behind his eyes.

 

The hunter held his breath but Cas simply reached past him to get a mug from past his left side. The Angel then turned soul-searching blue eyes on him. “Dean, may I get to the coffee machine, please?”

 

“Y- Yeah, yeah, sure.” the elder Winchester did not _squeak_ but this was something close to it. He slid from between Castiel and the counter and made his way to, what he believed, was a safe distance from the Seraph. He wouldn't- no, _couldn't_ let anything come of his feelings for the Angel; time was evidence that everyone who was close to the hunter got hurt or ended up dead. He couldn't let that happen to Castiel and so he closed himself off. _Focus on the hunt, Winchester_ , he told himself.

 

“Sam reckons we should head down to the library today; check some records, see if there's any reason a curse might have been placed on couples or if it's a vengeful spirit or something.” Dean leaned on the table behind him and setting his, now empty, cup on its surface.

 

The Seraph nodded whilst drinking from his own mug. “I believe it would indeed be wise to follow every possible cause of these deaths. I still think it could be a god but I do not recognise the ways these couples are being killed.”

 

“Bobby's just as stumped.” Dean placed his mug next to the sink and then going upstairs to take full advantage of the house's water pressure before they had to move on.

 

~x~x~x~

 

“Dean, I do not understand why it won't load.” Castiel looked over from the small computer terminal in the library to the table behind it where Dean was sat with morgue notes on bodies brought in over the last hundred years. Considering Springdale Fields was closed off and a fairly small town, Dean hadn't been expecting much, but it had turned out that, before six months ago, it had been caught up in gang violence and even had someone hold hostages in the small mall a couple of years ago.

 

The hunter looked over to find Cas staring at the computer. “You've clicked on the link, right?”

 

“Yes, but it simply shows a box that then disappears.” the Seraph sounded annoyed; like _'I-am-an-Angel-of-the-Lord-and-I-_ _ **will**_ _-smite-you-unless-you-start-cooperating'_ annoyed.

 

Sighing, Dean got up and leant over the Angel's shoulder. “Okay, try opening the link.”

 

Castiel pressed over the hyperlinked text and pressed both keys on the mouse. A scroll down box appeared but then flashed away.

 

The hunter resisted the urge to chuckle. “Cas, you only have to click with the left key. The right key is used left often.”

 

The Angel tilted his head and pressed the link with only the left key. The web page loaded and he turned to face the hunter. “Thank you, Dean.”

 

“Heh, it's only a website, man.” he grinned before turning back to the morgue records. It was going to be a long couple of hours...

 

~x~x~x~

 

Castiel glanced over at Dean, who was staring at nothing with a glazed-over look to his eyes. The morgue notes had been sorted through and the elder Winchester brother had been checking death records when, about fifteen minutes ago, he had started to drift and was now not paying the library's records any attention. The Angel took note on how peaceful his Charge's soul was when away from everything that made him question himself.

 

The Seraph then looked to the clock on the wall to find that it was almost a quarter to seven; the Sun would be setting in seventeen minutes, according to Cas' knowledge, and they were half way across the town from where they needed to be.

 

Logging off from the computer, Castiel mover over to Dean and shook his shoulder lightly. “Dean; we have to leave if we wish to get to the Carlton household before dusk.”

 

Green eyes snapped to blue. “Huh? Wha- Right, yeah, 'kay. I'm goin'.” Dean suddenly started sorting all the records back into their – previously well organised – boxes while the Angel returned some of the unopened ones to their shelves.

 

Ten minutes later and the two were in the Impala with Dean grumbling at whoever was driving in front of them. “Oh _come on_!” he gritted his teeth at being kept at a speed of twenty miles per hour due to the the other driver.

 

“You do realise that they cannot hear you, correct?” the Angel was peering at the hunter closely.

 

“Wha- Yeah. It's just, you know, venting or something.” Dean shrugged as the traffic began to trickle forward again.

 

Castiel nodded slowly. “It is odd how humans feel the need to communicate with each other even if the other cannot respond. Even if it, as it is in this case, is in anger, you feel the need to establish some form of communication – a link that would tie you to another if just for a short time.” by the end of his speech his head was tilted in thought.

 

“Jeez, Cas, I was only wishing for this guy to move his piece of Euro-trash he calls a car.” the elder Winchester glanced over at the Angel to find him staring right back.

 

“I am aware but Angels do not communicate unless it is absolutely necessary. After spending so much time on Earth it seems so... Closed off.” Castiel sighed.

 

“I thought you were 'beings of love' or something.”

 

“We are, but most Angels believe that unnecessary communication or even small intimacies are hindrances and will avoid them at any cost. Grace bonding does occur but it is exceedingly rare and when in Vessels, Angels will avoid contact for the most part.”

 

Dean raised his eyebrows. “What about you and your personal space problems?”

 

The hunter blamed it on the poor lighting and how he wasn't really focused on the Angel but he swore that the other man's cheeks were tinged red. “That was with you, Dean, you are not an Angel. I did not realise that humans also expected a certain amount of space to be kept between each other.”

 

“Uh huh.” the hunter was smirking slightly as he pulled onto the side of the road across from the small park. He switched the engine off and climbed out. The park was simply a small field of grass with a curved path running through it with benches dotted along the tarmac and underneath the trees that lined the edges of the field. A small climbing frame and a set of swings were grouped to Dean's right but a distance away, however, the hunter could still tell that it was currently devoid of people. On the other side of the field was a fence and, over which were, gardens of the other houses. Past the play park was the street that had previously been targeted by whatever they were hunting and, past a line of trees, was the Carlton house, on the edge of the street. Behind Dean was the wall that separated them from the rest of the world, and Castiel from his powers.

 

Grabbing the duffel from the trunk, he threw a look over to his companion. “Come on then, it's gonna be a long night.”

 

~x~x~x~

 

The two opted to sit on a bench beneath an old elm tree. It's leaves were just starting to come out of their buds and white blossoms were spread throughout the small, green shoots. From the bench, they could easily see the Carlton's house over the small garden wall as well as down the path to the left of the house and to the driveway whilst being hidden from the majority of the other houses and the park. As they watched, they saw the lights flicker on at about half past seven and could see Fiona's shadow on the curtains drawn over the kitchen window moving back and forth through the kitchen.

 

At eight o'clock, Darrell returned home and the lights remained on with no signs of disturbance occurring whatsoever.

 

By a quarter to nine, Dean was fairly bored, not having his normal flask of whiskey or copy of _Busty Asian Beauties_ to wile away the hours, he was instead going through as many _Black Sabbath_ songs he could think of in his head whilst tapping his foot lightly on the ground.

Castiel was sitting silently next to him; poker-straight with a blank expression while he stared straight ahead. However, the Angel did have a slightly glazed look to his eyes that lead the hunter to think he was doing some thinking of his own.

 

By ten o'clock, Dean was wishing he had brought some coffee with him or something because, after only a couple of days in Springdale Fields, he seemed to have developed a normal sleeping pattern. He was watching the house with forced interest, shaking himself slightly occasionally in order to keep himself awake.

The Seraph to his left, despite actually needing to sleep in his bound state, was still staring intently at the house as if it could solve all of the world's problems and not just the case.

 

It was ten to eleven when all of the lights went off. At first Dean went to grab the duffel thinking it was the monster they had been tracking down but Castiel laid a hand on his forearm holding him back.

 

“It is not what we need – I can sense their souls, they are merely going to sleep.” the Angel said, not looking at the human.

 

Dean relaxed slightly and the Angel let go of his sleeve. “So, what now? We just hope we hear screaming or something? I mean, none of the other neighbours said they ever heard any disturbances in the houses.” he stretched slightly and stifled a yawn.

 

Bright blue eyes turned on him and seemed to almost glow in the darkness. “I should be able to sense from their souls if something were to happen.”

 

The hunter shook his head. “I really don't like this. I like to know what it is I'm ganking when I go to gank it. I don't pull a Gambit and just go on how I feel.”

 

The Seraph was still looking at him. “I don't understand that. How can a gambit be likened to not knowing what we are facing?”

 

Another sigh. “Someday, Cas, we are gonna catch you up on every band, show and film you have ever neglected to see. Gambit is from _X-Men_ , he's a gambler, we're gambling with these people's lives seen as we don't know what we're up against.”

 

A look of reasonable understanding crossed the Angel's face. “That makes more sense now.” he stated before turning his attention back to the house.

 

Dean lasted another fifteen minutes before he felt the need to talk again. _Hey_ , he reasoned. _I normally have Baby and my tape collection to keep me company. I need_ _ **something**_ _to do_.“Can you monitor their souls while you talk?”

 

“Of course, Dean.” came the gruff response.

 

“Okay then, explain something to me, I'm curious; what the Hell is a _'Grace tying'_ or whatever you mentioned earlier?” Something about hearing that Angels could have some kind of compassion for each other made him wonder why it was so rare, if the Angel's word was to be believed and they were beings of love.

 

The Seraph tilted his head and looked to the floor as if considering something. “Grace bonding.” Cas corrected. “I do not quite know how to explain this in terms a human language would capture correctly.” A pause. “As you know, Angels were not created with free-will or, at least, we weren't meant to be _capable_ of it. However, it would seem that some do possess the ability to think for ourselves. Raphael, Gabriel, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Balthazar, Bartholomew and myself, to name a few, all seem to be able to have our own thoughts and have simply had it trained out of us until we rediscovered the ability.”

 

“I don't see what this has to do with bonding or whatever.”

 

“It does, if you will let me finish.” Castiel gave Dean a look that made the hunter decide that the Angel wasn't allowed near his brother any more; _that was most_ _ **definitely**_ _a bitchface_. “Others who have had free-will have also developed emotions; like I have, and Gabriel, even Raphael to some extent. Being kept in Heaven unless ordered otherwise meant that they would only meet other Angels and when two who both had this ability met, they would, sometimes, hold romantic emotions for each other and their Graces would... Link; they would become in-tune with the other, share emotions, experiences but this occurrence is exceedingly rare. I have only ever heard of a handful of cases and have never personally met a bonded Angel.”

 

Dean stole a glance at the other man and found him staring intently at the floor. “Have you ever, uh, wanted to- to bond?” he tried to sound casual and hoped that Cas didn't notice the hitch in his voice. _You don't really care_ , he told himself. _You don't care it's just conversation. You certainly don't care because **you** want to bond with him _ , Dean stopped his chain of thought right there because it wasn't his place to even _think_ stuff like that. Asleep was one thing, but consciously? Surely a one-way ticket back to Hell.

 

As the Angel looked up towards the house again a small smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “No, I have never felt the desire to bond with another Angel.”

 

The elder Winchester squashed the relief and hope that bloomed within him. “Heh, not too popular with the Angel chicks, Cas?”

 

The Seraph gave him an odd look. “No, I simply have not found an Angel who inspires such feelings in me.”

 

Dean shrugged. “Fair en-n-n-nough.” he managed to get out over another stifled yawn.

 

“If you need to sleep Dean, I will watch over you.” There was that soul-searching gaze again.

 

“Nah, man, you need sleep now too. I'll be fine.”

 

“Dean, I am not as drowsy as you and if we wish to catch this monster tonight, whatever it may be, you will need to be awake.”

 

It didn't take much convincing for Dean to give in. “Okay, wake me if anything happens.” he mumbled and leant back against the tree, crossed his arms and shut his eyes, sleep coming quickly.

 

~x~x~x~

 

The hunter's sleep was mostly dreamless, with a few memories drifting in and out of the blissful blackness.

 

It felt like five minutes since he had fallen asleep when he was being shook awake.

 

“Dean. Dean!” Castiel sounded urgent.

 

The elder Winchester sat bolt upright to find the sky still dark, the Angel standing in front of him and his hand already clutching the knife in his belt. “What? What is it?”

 

The Seraph turned bright eyes on him that looked a little stunned. “The Carltons; they're gone.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is that a cliff hanger?  
> I think it is!  
> And I am not sorry!  
> >:D
> 
> Yes, an update between exams! You lucky lucky people but now I should really go revise for my maths on Monday. Or sleep. It's a quarter to midnight here...  
> Still, this chapter kinda got away from me and turned into a bit of a monster... It was hard to write this one too.
> 
> ANYWAY, SO MUCH LOVE TO EVERYONE STILL HERE!!! (｡◕‿◕｡)
> 
> And bonding... Yeah, we all know where this is heading... c:


	8. They're Gone But Not Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the next couple disappears from right under Castiel and Dean's noses, they decide that they need to take action and it has to be soon.
> 
> The deadline for the next attack gives little time for any more considering - the clock is ticking before it strikes again...

_The Seraph turned bright eyes on him that looked a little stunned. “The Carltons; they're gone”_

 

~x~x~x~

 

Dean was speechless for a moment. “What do you mean _gone_?!” he was standing up now, duffel over his shoulder and looking towards the house.

 

“One moment I could feel their souls within the house, the next they were simply gone. No others entered or were anywhere near the home.” by the look on Castiel's face, the hunter could tell that this was troubling the Angel more than his gruff voice let on.

 

“So, what? Nobody broke in? There's nothing you can detect?” Dean didn't want to admit that they had, possibly, lost another couple while being _right freaking there_.

 

Cas shook his head slowly. “Dean... I don't believe there is anything we can do.”

 

The elder Winchester turned and inhaled deeply, resisting the urge to punch the tree as that would hurt less than punching the stoic being behind him. “You're absolutely _sure_ that there was nothing around?”

 

Dean turned back around to find an expression that he was more used to see on the faces of Angels; one that said _'I-am-an-almighty-being-how-dare-you-question-me'_ “If anything had been within a radius of half a mile from the house, I would have been able to detect it, even in this bound state. All that I could sense was ourselves and other occupants in their houses.”

 

“Son of a _bitch_!” Dean kicked the bench in frustration. _Two more people he couldn't save_.

 

“Dean,” The hunter felt a hand settle on his right shoulder and felt his shoulder unconsciously relax slightly. “This is not your fault, do not blame yourself. Focus on finding this creature and we should be able to save them, if the gap between the abductions and the bodies being recovered is any indication.”

 

The hunter gritted his teeth. “You are absolutely _sure_ that they're gone.”

 

The Angel levelled his gaze. “Dean, I am completely certain that the house is still locked but its occupants are gone. I am sorry.”

 

The elder Winchester rubbed a hand over his face as he sighed. “Then I don't know what else we can do. I'll ring Sam, see if he has anything else.”

 

~x~x~x~

 

_Trrrrrrzzt._

 

A hand came out from the covers and slapped at the phone on the bedside table that was vibrating far too loudly for... Sometime in the morning before Sam was awake.

 

_Trrrrrrzzt._

 

Grabbing the offending piece of plastic and hitting the 'answer' button, “Huh?” was all the greeting that Sam gave.

 

“Sam, the Carltons are gone.” came the older brother's voice through the phone.

 

“Dean- What?” he checked the clock on his phone to find that it read _3:22am_ – far too early, in Sam's opinion.

 

“The Carltons? The couple we were watching? They're gone.” There was a cold edge to his brother's voice that Sam recognised as when his brother was on the verge of flipping out.

 

Sam bolted upright; partly from his brother's tone but also at the words. “What? Bu- But I thought you were watching them.”

 

“We were. Cas was monitoring their souls using what Angel powers he can reach and apparently they just... I don't know, _vanished_.” then there was some talking away from the phone that the younger brother assumed was Cas saying something to Dean.

 

When the line next came alive, it was the Angel on the other end. “Hello, Sam. I was monitoring the house and the Carltons when the situation occurred. There were no other beings around when theirs souls disappeared; if there had been I would have been able to detect them from their own soul imprints.”

 

The younger Winchester sighed, shoulders slumping. “A- Then we had better find this thing quick, by the marks on the body I say that this god or whatever is killing it's victims about five or six days after taking them and in four more days, the next couple is set to go. Try and be in the house, I guess?” Sam was still stumped on whatever the mystery monster was and was growing increasingly worried about the case. Nothing had ever evaded their knowledge for this long, especially when Bobby and Castiel were helping. All of it was adding up to make the younger hunter wonder if this wasn't some new monster that Eve had cooked up. He decided to voice this to the Angel. “Say, Cas, could this be Eve? Could this be something of hers?”

 

Sam could all but imagine the head tilt that Castiel was probably doing at that moment. A slight hesitation before “No. No, this is not Eve. This feels... Old but not as old as Eve or like any of her creations. I feel as if I have encountered this before but I cannot remember where.” The confusion was evident in the Seraph's voice which just added to the Winchester's sense of unease.

 

“I'll get back to looking for whatever this is. There's gotta be something. You two, uh, see if you can find if anyone wanted to hurt the couple. An argument at work. Old family disputes. Anything.”

 

Chatter away from the phone and then “Dean says we will meet you in the small bar off from the town's centre tonight to discuss further.”

 

The line went dead and Sam dropped his phone back on the bedside table and worrying his lip slightly between his teeth.

 

The younger hunter was certain that the estate agent was the monster, but going against him with no clue what he actually _was_ could be dangerous, even so, Sam figured he'd at least stop by the agent's house and see if he could at least get some answers.

 

~x~x~x~

 

By six o'clock the same morning, Dean and Castiel were back in the house and the Angel knew something was definitely wrong. He recognised that the human tried to save as many people as he could and saw the stakeout as a failure of some kind but the Angel maintained hope that they would be able to find the missing couple before any harm came to them. After all, he trusted Sam who had assured him he would maintain his search and that the bodies showed that they were not killed immediately. Dean was, however, sitting at the table, gazing at nothing with a glass of whiskey in front of him and sporting a grim expression on his face; one that Cas recognised as the expression Dean used when he did not want to talk.

 

The Seraph believed that, given the situation, he needed to 'diffuse the bomb', as Bobby had once said, that is Dean Winchester when angry/hurt and/or upset.

 

Castiel sat across from him and waited for the green-eyed man to make eye contact.

 

“I know what you're thinking Cas, and no.” Dean sighed.

 

“Dean, there is nothing you could have done and you know it.”

 

The hunter finally looked over. “And that just makes me feel worse. We should have found whatever this thing is by now, not just someone we think _might_ be it and some random-ass star chart for any hint about where it's from.” Castiel saw Dean's soul start to be clouded by the deep, blood red of anger which inched into black at the edges: hatred. Hatred that was directed onto himself.

 

The Angel's eyes narrowed. “You will do what you can, nothing more can be expected from you.”

 

“And if those people turn up dead? That's on me. I couldn-”

 

“If they die, then that guilt will way on me as much as you, if not more; after all, I was the one watching the house.” The Angel replied, a cold lining to his voice.

 

“I shouldn't have even been sleepin'.” Dean stared into his glass before owning the rest of its contents.

 

“Dean,” Castiel growled and the hunter looked up, a small amount of alarm showing in his eyes at the Angel's tone. Castiel took a deep breath before letting it out again, calming himself. He reasoned that, had he not been bound, a sudden storm would have rolled in or every light, mirror and window would have been smashed within half a mile around him – possibly both – if he did not control his growing anger. “The outcome would have been the same whether you were asleep or not. There is _nothing_ you could have done. You must understand this. There is still time to save the couple and that is something you _can_ effect.”

 

A humourless smirk as the hunter placed his glass back on the table. “Great, so now I'm useless.”

 

Before either of them realised what he was doing, Castiel had Dean by the collar of his jacket and backed onto the wall. The Angel may not have had superior strength but he did have the element of surprise which left the elder Winchester speechless and the intensity of the other's gaze made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

 

The Seraph opened his mouth to speak, his eyes matching the dark sky from earlier, when there was a small knock on the door. Castiel blinked and then stood up straight from where he had been leaning into Dean, the majority of the anger falling from his frame. Dean swallowed and, after receiving a _'this is not over, Winchester'_ glare from the blue-eyed man, pulled his gun from the table and made his way to the door.

 

Looking through the peep-hole, Dean saw that the sky had lightened considerably and on their porch was... Toby? Yeah, Toby, the ginger haired guy they'd met at the barbecue. Chucking off his jacket and nodding at the Angel to do the same before opening the door, gun tucked into the back of his jeans – just in case.

 

“Hey Toby, is somethin' up?” Dean asked, a small smile accompanying the question as Castiel leaned against the wall diving the hall and the living room.

 

“Yeah, I mean, I know you live kinda a way away from them, but do you know if the Carltons came home last night? I go to walk their dog this morning, same as every other and theirs no answer. I can't reach them on their phones, all the curtains are closed. I just hope they haven't... You know.” the boy finished quietly and the hunter shared a slightly worried look with Cas.

 

“Didn't see Fiona at all yesterday but we saw Darrell drive home, didn't we, babe?” it wasn't _all_ a lie, just a tweaked truth.

 

A nervous hand carded through his hair as Toby's eyes widened. “Oh God...” A small scowl from the Seraph, that went unnoticed, was shot towards the door. “I- I should ring the police. Oh my God.”

 

Dean saw that Toby was about to start hyperventilating or something similar and quickly moved to attempt and calm him down. “It's okay, don't worry. I'm sure it's nothin'. Cas can call the cops, just in case something is up but I'm sure it's all fine.” the Winchester nodded to Cas who nodded once in return before turning into the living room to fetch the phone.

 

The hunter, meanwhile, sat Toby on one of the wooden porch seats. The ginger-haired man was almost doubled over where he sat, hands gripping his head as if he feared it were to fall apart should he let go. “I'm s-so sorry you two had to- to move in while a-all of this g-going on.” he sounded like he was bordering hysterical.

 

Dean scrambled for something to say to try and explain why he wasn't, also, freaking. “Yeah, well, I'm in the police so I guess I've seen my fair share of crazy.” Not his best cover, he'll admit, but it explained his relatively calm composure.

 

“S-still doesn't mak- make it any easier, though, eh?” a dry chuckle and then Castiel was behind him and to his left.

 

“Dean, the police should arrive within seven minutes. I suggest someone should be there to greet them.” The Angel was sporting a completely blank and stony looking expression. It reminded Dean of how Castiel when he had first met him; all duty and no emotion.

 

“Yeah, um, I'll go.” Dean walked past the Seraph to grab his coat and added a quiet. “Get Sam down here, too.” to which Castiel nodded.

 

~x~x~x~

 

By the time the police arrived, so had half of the occupants of surrounding streets. Toby's house-mates had knocked on other doors asking about the Carltons and now there was a small crowd of people outside the last house on Joshua Avenue.

 

In the early morning light – and with sun rising behind the house, casting most of the front in shadow -, the house seemed eerie. With ivy climbing the sides of its stone walls and curtains still drawn, the house seemed to ooze an air of all things foreboding that reached under Dean's skin and made him anxious. The was cold and Dean unconsciously tugged his jacket tighter around himself. A haze of mist had settled over the park that could just be seen behind the house and made the air smell slightly damp.

 

As the cops tried to get into the house, the gathered crowd murmured and muttered quietly in small groups, possibly trading theories about what was going on.

 

Dean and Castiel stood apart from the groups, not looking at each other, when an engine cut out behind them. Dean turned to find his brother and a small man he didn't recognise getting out of Sam's car.

 

“Dean, Cas; this is Malcolm. We heard what's happened.” Sam nodded in greeting while the other man, Malcolm, looked up, wide-eyed, at the house.

 

“Yeah, I think they're ready to break down the door to get in.” the elder brother cast a glance over his shoulder at the cops on the house's doorstep.

 

“Th-this isn't right. None of this is right.” Malcolm was still staring at the house.

 

Dean was about to quip something – possibly a 'no shit, Sherlock' – when there was a bang, a few shouts and then muffled gasps of horror.

 

The two hunters and the Angel glanced at each other before pushing through the crowd to see what was going on, leaving the black-haired man behind.

 

When they reached the front of the crowd, Dean swore under his breath.

 

The door had been broken in and there, at the bottom of the stares, was the Carlton's dog with its eyes blank as it stared at nothing while a red smear lead from its body and into the living room as if it had been dragged to its current position.

 

Sam turned away, covering his mouth.

 

“Oh, this fucker is gonna _pay_.” Dean growled.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO'S FINISHED THEIR EXAMS!!!!  
> ((hint: it's me!))  
> And that means that this gets an update!
> 
> I've always found in films/books/TV shows/etc. you can hurt people, but you hurt an animal and I will hate you oh so much more and so I included that. Oops
> 
> This chapter was all basically obligatory Winchester angst, the majority of which has not been beta'd.  
> I don't like this chapter; it was hard going, doesn't really flow and I feel like my characterisation sucks...  
> Ah well...
> 
> First half of the fic beta'd by never-let-sherlock-do-parkour (tumblr name), go say hi or something... I don't know.
> 
> WELL, MUCH LOVE TO ANYONE WITH ME  
> YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU


	9. Run? From What?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio decide that a confrontation with Malik will be the only way to settle this; no matter what, or where, he is...

Castiel watched as the animal was removed from the house underneath a blue sheet to hide it from onlookers. His Charges were discussing if either of them had found anything new as well as going over what they had already found in case they had missed something.

 

“Cas, right?” the Angel turned to find Malcolm a few feet away while smaller groups of people were starting to leave the area.

 

He nodded. “Yes. And you are Malcolm; Sam's acquaintance.” The Angel noted that his soul was somewhat muted compared to others he had met. It was curled in on itself with pale yellows and silver showing a good life but it seemed... Hazy, as if it were not quite tethered down. Castiel had never seen a soul that appeared as this one did but he put it down to how all human souls were different.

 

Castiel still found it fascinating how different each human soul was; Dean's was bright with colour, Sam's often showed colours of affection but with a permanent black coil due to Azazel's blood whilst Bobby's had always taken on blue undertones of protectiveness.

 

Demons, however, looked the same for the majority of the time - showing their true faces - to those who could see - and what remained of their souls; black, swirling pools with hues of red and purple towards the edges. Angels were often similar, too, and had their true forms shining through their vessel; wings made from light and energy protruding from their borrowed backs whilst a white light coiled inside their chest keeping their grace tethered around the soul of the human they were possessing.

 

The shorter man scuffled his feet slightly under the other's gaze. “Uh, yeah, I guess? Anyway, I was just gonna say that it's a shame you had to move in now whilst... Well, while _this_ is going on.”

 

“Yes, it does seem we arrived at an unfortunate time. From what I've heard of the town's past, however, it has seen violence before.” Castiel recalled Dean telling him something in the library about shootings and a few riots over the past few years while they had been looking for evidence on what the monster, or god, could be.

 

Malcolm's face darkened slightly. “Yeah, I moved in at about that time. It was quite... Unruly, I guess.” He then brightened as if remembering himself. “But yeah... So, how do you know Sam?”

 

The Seraph remembered that they had gone over this before setting off for Springdale. Dean and Sam were using different last names – Dean taking on Smith while Sam adopted Wesson – and had developed a story of meeting through work which was, technically, true. “I met both Dean and Sam through work; they have known each other longer, however.”

 

“Really? What do you do?” The Angel drew a blank. They had never discussed what the 'job' would have been and now he found himself at a loss for what to say.

 

He opened his mouth to speak when he felt Dean's hand land on the small of his back. “It's okay, I'm sure we can tell him. It's not that big of a secret.” Cas turned to find Dean grinning like he wasn't making it up as he went. _This is, essentially, his job_ , the Angel reminded himself. “We met when Cas here was moved onto our police unit. He's all intelligence, though; coding, decrypting, stuff I'll never get but Sam's into that too.”

 

Malcolm nodded as Dean lied as easily as if it were the truth that he was speaking. “You're making me look bad, then; I have an office job that's basically just spreadsheets.” he laughed slightly.

 

“I originally planned to be a lawyer.” Sam said, wandering over from where he had been talking to one of the other residents.

 

“Huh, I guess I could see you doing that.” the smaller man turned to face Dean. “What about you?”

 

“I always wanted to be a fireman but I guess I ended up in the wrong force by accident.” the Hunter smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

 

Eyes turned to Castiel and he tried to think of something quickly. The two humans had kept relatively to the truth so the Seraph opted for the same idea. “I attended a strict boarding school and went straight into the police after I graduated.”

 

Malcolm started to speak again but his phone rang and he excused himself to answer. Dean was smirking at Castiel whilst Sam was doing a poor job of covering laughter with coughing.

 

“Boarding school, huh?” Dean asked, his hand still on Cas' back; a solid warmth that the Angel was resisting the urge to lean in to.

 

“You and Sam had remained mostly truthful so I simply did the same by supplementing a situation with rules and order for another that would raise less suspicion than 'I am an Angel and, before coming to Earth, had never doubted that I would be lied to'.”

 

Sam raised his eyebrows and the elder brother's smirk turned into a full grin. “Whoa there, Cas. Reign in the sass a bit, buddy.”

 

The Angel's eyes narrowed and he was about to ask what 'sass' was when he heard something he thought he recognised. He looked over his shoulder to where there were three women talking and two young girls playing next to them. They were clapping their hands together whilst singing a rhyme that the Seraph vaguely recognised:

 

'If you go into the town today,

You're sure to get a surprise;

'Cause he's sittin' round the fire

And he'll hear your cries.

With his eyes too big

And his mouth too wide,

You'd better start runnin'

'Cause there's nowhere to hide.'

 

The girls laughed and started the song again except one of the girls had to keep her arm behind her back.

 

“Cas? You okay?” Dean's grin had fallen and, instead, he wore an expression of mild concern, the hand on his back and tensed slightly, also.

 

“Yes, it's just that I recognise that song. Not exactly like that but... I have a feeling I heard it a long time ago, in another language.” The Angel was trying to place where he had heard the rhyme before.

 

The younger brother looked over to the girls and then back at the other two. “Sounds a bit morbid but it just seems like a nursery rhyme. Probably an original from a Grimm's fairytale; they were always pretty dark.”

 

Castiel nodded but still couldn't shake the feeling that he knew the song from... Somewhere.

 

~x~x~x~

 

Malcolm came back later to quickly say he had to go before disappearing again and the brothers decided that they were going to try and corner Malik to assess if he was what they were hunting and, if so, what he actually _was_. Sam told them to meet him behind the town square in half an hour so that Dean and Castiel could get a variety of weapons from the house while Sam would inform Bobby of what they were planning to do as well as to find out where Malik lived from the file he had put together.

 

Castiel was still considering the origins of the song whilst Dean weaved through what remained of the crowd that had formed earlier.

 

The hunter kept glancing over at his companion and how he was, rather uncharacteristically, not focusing on anything; his eyes, instead, having a distant look in them but not as if he were focussing on something far away, like he did whilst listening to the 'Angel Radio' but just... Distant.

 

At the almost hurrying pace that they were returning to the house, Dean almost missed what one man was saying into his phone.

 

“... Told you; he left last night after the argument and that was it. I get here this morning and he and his wife are gone and their dog dead.”

 

The hunter looked over to Castiel whilst the conversation continued and arched an eyebrow. “Worth talking to?” he asked quietly.

 

The Angel's head tilted whilst he considered the man. “Possibly. If they had an argument, it could supply motive and if he knew the other couples that could also mean he has been involved in their deaths instead of or as well as Malik.”

 

“Maybe Sammy's theory of two gods wasn't so far off, then. I'll talk to him, you go grab the duffel. I'll meet you back out here.” Castiel nodded before moving on from the human who started towards the man on the phone.

 

He came up to about Dean's shoulder with a round stomach and a short neck. His dark hair was greying with a bald patch starting on his crown. He was dressed in sweatpants, a thin T-shirt and running shoes. _Great; he's a jogger_ , Dean thought.

 

As the hunter neared, he sighed and put his phone away. “I'm sorry, couldn't help but hear, but you had an argument with Darrell yesterday?” he asked, keeping his tone light in order to not sound like he was snooping.

 

The shorter man gave him a slightly suspicious look. “Yeah, why, who's askin'?”

 

Dean raised his hands slightly in a passive gesture. “Just a friend, just saw him looking a little tense on his way home.”

 

The tense set to the man's shoulder leaked away as he sighed. “Yeah, it was really over nothing as well... It was about some planning for the cleared area just beyond Fauder's Street and how the new office layout would be set. He stormed out, sayin' that he didn't care and that's the last I saw him. Now he's gone like the others. I never met some of the couples but it's still tragic.”

 

The hunter mentally crossed off the man as the monster – hadn't met some of the other couples and, even if he did slightly resemble Zachariah, Dean didn't think it would be the host of choice for most things that went bump in the night.

 

“I'm sure the cops will catch whoever is doing this. They'll turn up, don''t worry.” the taller man gave an easy smile to the other before heading back up the street towards the house he's been sharing with Cas. He reached the steps to find that the Angel was already coming out of the house with the duffel full of weaponry thrown over his shoulder.

 

“Ready?” Dean asked - to which Castiel nodded - and stepped over to Baby who was parked in the drive, morning light making the edges of the black paint shine in various hues of grey and pale blue. He unlocked the driver's door and settled into the familiar seat whilst Castiel placed the bag on the back seat before climbing in and settling himself on the bench seat.

 

The hunter turned the key and the engine rumbled to life. He breathed in the smell of leather and the vague scent of petrol fumes; this was where he belonged, behind the wheel of his Baby and on his way to, hopefully, kill that weeks particular pain in the ass. It also made him feel better about the way the hunt was heading with how intense his Angel ha-

 

Dean almost drove straight forwards into the garage door out of shock.

 

No.

 

Castiel was _an_ Angel, not _his_. Shaking his head slightly, acutely aware of how his passenger was staring at him, Dean reversed the Impala out of the drive before setting off towards the centre of the town; the near-by streets still having a few people wandering almost aimlessly, obviously parts of the crowds that had formed earlier that morning.

 

Driving with a clear purpose through the streets and having cold air blowing in through his half open window helped to clear Dean's mind. He got sort of his emotional crap later, when people weren't still dying. Dean figured that Sammy would say he was 'repressing his emotions' or some other bull if he could hear the older brother's decision but he didn't care; as always, everyone else came first, Dean and his messed up relationship with an Angel would come later.

 

Not for the first time, Dean wondered that if, simply by lusting for an Angel, he was going to get thrown back into Hell. That he would return to the scorching fires, the harsh clashes of metal and the oppressive smells of sulphur, blood and bile. If he would return to the _rack_ ; the same that still plagued his dreams and only went away when he drank or sated himself with sex or... The hunter realised he had not dreamt of Hell whilst being with the Angel. Did Castiel suppress the memories with his presence or-

 

Dean cut off his own train of thought. After all, it was probably nothing. It could have had something to do with the warding on the town, the same that had been effecting Cas' powers. Dean decided to go with that.

 

“Dean,” the gravelly voice brought the man out of his thoughts.

 

“Yeah?” he grunted as he stopped his car for a red light.

 

“Are you okay? You seem... Distracted.”

 

Dean's brain tried to site his knowledge on 'how to tell an Angel of the Lord, who thinks your relationship is entirely platonic, that you're distracted because of said Angel thinking that your relationship is entirely platonic on both ends' and, surprisingly, came up with nothing. The hunter's brain went to Plan B; lie.

 

“Yeah, I'm fine.” he gave Castiel a small grin before putting the car back into drive and pulling off, eyes focused on the road.

 

“Dean.” He should have known that Cas would be able to tell he was lying.

 

The hunter sighed. “I don't know, I guess this case has just gotten under my skin. That's all.” Dean figured it wasn't _technically_ a lie so he should be fine.

 

“I understand. I still cannot shake the feeling that I know that rhyme from somewhere.” the Angel's voice sounded almost distant as if he were trying to remember a dream but every time he got close, it slipped away.

 

The next few minutes passed in silence until they pulled up behind the town square and found Sam waiting for them who nodded in greeting as they got out of the Impala, her doors squeaking as they were closed.

 

“I called Bobby and told him we were going to try and corner this guy – he's still clueless on what he could be, though.” the younger brother pulled a folded up piece of paper from his pocket. “This is all I could find on Malik,” he handed Dean the sheet who opened it and scanned the writing whilst Sam continued. “He moved here a couple of months ago, keeps to himself and he lives on Garden Court, a couple of blocks west from here.”

 

“It would seem he moved here only weeks before the killings started.” Castiel stated, looking over Dean's shoulder slightly at the file.

 

“Yeah, except... Well, there's one thing that really fit. See, six months ago, a body of the old town mayor turned up and he had been burnt, all over, with his heart gone; Malcolm told me about it, said it happened just after he moved in. I tried finding records or anything but there was practically nothing about his death any where or any reason for somebody to want to kill him.” Sam bit his lip slightly, evidently thinking through the case that was turning up nothing they could use to figure out what was going on.

 

Dean shrugged slightly. “Testing the waters, maybe? This god, or whatever, was finding out what he was getting into before setting up camp?”

 

“Mmm, possibly.” the younger hunter trailed off, then “We should go; the sooner we find this guy, the sooner we can stop whatever it is he's doing.”

 

“Yeah, come on then.” Dean turned to get back into the Impala but Sam held his arm and stopped him.

 

“It'll raise less suspicion if we walk. We don't want this guy hearing the car and running before we can get to him.” Sam said in,what Dean had dubbed, the 'I may be younger but I'm smarter' tone.

 

“Fine, whatever. Bitch.” the elder brother grumbled and grabbed the duffel from the back seat and through it over his shoulder. “Let's just get this over with; I don't like leaving Baby unattended in shady back streets.”

 

The street in question was, in fact, nothing like a 'shady back street'. With the town hall to their left, it cast most of the street in cool and shadow and out of the morning sun. The road itself was not a main one but was still wide enough for two cars to travel down it at the same time.

 

The other side of the road had a small park on the right with an old groundskeeper's house on the corner next to the open gates set into the red brick walls that ringed it; the open gates showing paved and curving paths leading away from the entrance and through well-kept areas of bright flowers.

 

On the other side and to the left, across and adjoining road from the park, was a row of small shops and a laundromat with apartments above them.

 

All-in-all, the road was, actually, just like any other in Springdale Fields; perfect, on the borderline with creepy.

 

The three started walking in the direction Sam had indicated as being the way to Malik's home. Dean's brain was already starting to pump adrenaline into his system, getting him ready for the fight that normally coupled a large hunt. The Angel next to him also had an intense way to how his shoulders and jaw was set; one that normally accompanied somebody getting smote. Dean found it odd that he kind of missed the trench coat, now that Castiel was no longer wearing it. He'd become so accustomed to seeing it fanning out behind the Seraph whilst he strode about of 'Heavenly Business' as if it were compensation for not seeing his wings.

 

Sam coughed slightly on his left and he turned to see his brother trying to cover a smirk and had his eyebrows raised.

 

“What?” Dean snapped.

 

“So, you wanted to be a fireman?”

 

The elder brother shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, I guess. If I hadn't stayed hunting I think I would have done that. I dunno, why?”

 

“No reason, just... You've never really talked about what you'd do if not for all...” he gestured broadly. “This.”

 

“Well, there's no need to, really, given that this is what we do.” another shrug.

 

“I think your brother's desire to help and save people is admirable.” Castiel spoke from on Dean's right and both Winchesters turned to look at him.

 

Dean blustered a little. “What?”

 

The Angel blinked at him. “Even if this were not your occupation, you still wish to find away t help those who need it. I believe that is something to be respected.”

 

Dean turned back to his brother with a slightly smug smile. “See, Sammy; I'm _respectable_.” And if he was smug because it was Cas who thought it, well, nobody else knew.

 

Sam snorted. “Please, you are anything _but_ respectable.”

 

Dean was about to snark something back at his brother but he was cut off by said brother pointing towards a house down the street to their right. It was fairly large – too big for just one man to live in – and was set a small way back from the rest of the road. Trees arched over the path that lead to the front door and were dotted around the rest of the property as well. Wind rustled through their leaves making a sound that sounded almost like an Angel's arrival drift towards them. The white panelled walls were clean and stood out against the green hues of spring surrounding it while its grey tiled room looked like a storm cloud against the blue sky above it. It should have looked like a picture-perfect home but, instead, it set the Hunter's teeth on edge.

 

“I'm gonna see if there's any way I can get in through the upstairs.” Sam said as they came to a stop towards the edge of the property.

 

Dean nodded. “We'll take the back entrance and clear the bottom floor.” Sam gave a small nod of his own in return before walking off further down the road and then up the main path as if he had every right to be there.

 

The elder hunter was thankful for the fairly dense amount of trees and bushes on the property and its neighbours so that his own and Castiel's movement towards the back of the property were mostly covered.

 

Upon reaching the back, the two crept up the stairs and onto the back porch towards the door. Everything was cast in long shadows that gave a blue tinge to their surroundings. Dean put down the duffel and pulled out his lock pick, turning his attention to the door whilst Castiel watched his back, scanning the surrounding area for danger of suspicious neighbours.

 

The door opened with a small _click_ and Dean gestured for Cas to go inside before following in himself, closing the door behind him. The hunter motioned for Cas to go right and he'd go left. The Angel nodded and disappeared into the other room.

 

Dean started left when he noticed that something was wrong: the house was completely plain, cold and smelt slightly of damp – in other words, nobody had been living here for a while. From the back hall, Dean went into, what he thought was, the kitchen to find only a few counters and cupboards but with nothing showing that the place had been touched in months as a thick layer of dust coated each surface. From the kitchen, he went into the adjoining dining room to find it empty apart from a marble fireplace and cracked mirror. The hunter turned right and into the main hall when his brother came down the stairs looking equally as confused.

 

“It's all empty, place doesn't look touched.” Sam said, shaking his head.

 

“Same here.” Dean gestured to the room behind him.

 

Castiel came in from where the living room would have been. “The majority of those rooms are also empty, apart from an old chair that would appear to be the only object ever to have been used as not as much dust resides on it as on other objects.”

 

Dean looked back to his brother. “Do you think he figured out we were onto him and ran?” he asked.

 

Sam shook his head slightly. “No, this place doesn't look like it's been lived in for a while, apart from the chair, apparently.”

 

“I believe there is a basement. Perhaps that will provide more insight.” The Angel gestured to the door underneath the stairs.

 

Dean nodded and walked over to the door. He held up three fingers, then two, then one and pulled open the door, Sam and Cas going down the steps to the basement first with the elder brother following behind. When in the basement, Sam flicked the switch that was meant to be for the lights but nothing happened so Dean switched on the torch he had taken from the duffel before leaving it next to the back door. A few sweeps of the basement reviled that there was also a whole lot of nothing down there, too.

 

“Great, just freaking great. This case is making less and less sense by the minute and we don't even have our main guy.” the older brother grumbled.

 

“Trust me, Dean, I'm just as confused as you are.” Sam said quietly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah... I suck at chapter titles and summaries... Sorry. c:
> 
> Anyway, writing wise, things should be going a lot smoother after this because I have it (fairly) planned out from now.
> 
> I would also like to thank my wonderful beta infitejellybean for the brilliant ideas and encouragement! *hugs*
> 
> AND THANKS TO YOU AND EVERYONE READING!!
> 
> Also, I was watching the 'Hush' episode of Buffy when the whole creepy sing-song thing happened. Whoops...


	10. Old Foes Walk Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's nightmares turn out to be useful but the real question, did he want to know what they were facing?

 

Half an hour later, the trio were sitting in the park behind the town hall trying to come up with a decent theory about what was going on and had, so far, come up with nothing.

 

“Uh...” Sam started again. “Maybe it's a time travel thing; the monster is taking victims from its past to help manifest itself?” he rubbed a hand over his face and through his hair.

 

Dean looked at his brother who was to his left on the bench. “That is the stupidest thing you've come up with so far. Hell, that's worse than the TV Land theory from when we ran into Gabriel.”

 

“You haven't come up with anything better, jerk.” the younger brother snapped.

 

“Bitch.” Dean bit back but the exhaustion was clear in his voice.

 

Sam leaned back on the bench and closed his eyes. “What time even is it, any way? I need to actually go and do a job this afternoon. I've gotten into the CCTV and everything but there's never anything there. No light, no people, it's like they just blink out of existence.” he sighed.

 

Dean turned on the screen on his phone and checked the time. “It's almost eleven.” the older hunter said before hiding a yawn behind his hand. “I keep forgetting that I haven't slept since... Uh, most of the night.” he glanced over to the Angel on his right. “How are you holding up, Cas? You haven't slept for longer than me.”

 

Castiel blinked a couple of times as if coming out of a daze and then looked over to the hunter on his left. “I am still reasonably awake, Dean.” he assured him.

 

“If you've barely slept all night, you should probably head back then. I need to go.” the younger Winchester stretched, his bones popping audibly, as he stood up before walking off to their right, throwing a small wave over his shoulder as he went.

 

“He's probably right, you know. Especially you. You need sleep now, too.” Dean told the Seraph.

 

Once again, Castiel seemed to come out of a dazed state. “Hmm? Oh, yes I suppose.”

 

“Okay, man, what's up with you? You're more distracted than every man ever whilst watching _Who Framed Roger Rabbit_.” Dean asked him, giving the – normally over-focused and intense Angel – a slightly worried look.

 

“I-” Castiel stopped and frowned slightly, considering what he was going to say. “I know that Sam believes it may simply be a nursery rhyme, but I believe that the song I heard this morning may have something to do with what we are hunting. The problem is that I cannot place when or where I heard it.”

 

Pulling out his phone again, Dean brought up his contacts and selected Bobby's number. “Here, call Bobby. Maybe he'll recognise it.” he handed his phone over to the Angel who took it and held it to his ear.

 

A muffled grunt from the phone alerted Dean that the phone had been answered. “Bobby, no- it is okay. Both the Winchesters and myself are fine.” More muffled talking from the other end. “Yes, I will pass along the message to them both but, yes, there is a reason for calling.” Another pause while Bobby talked. “No, I do not bel- Oh, you were kidding.” Laughter echoed through the phone and Dean smiled slightly at the fact that the Angel was looking at the phone like it could tell him what was so funny. The laughter died down and then the elder hunter spoke again before Castiel coninued. “I was calling to ask if you had heard of a rhyme that goes 'If you go into the town today,/ You're sure to get a surprise;/ 'Cause he's sittin' round the fire/ And he'll hear your cries./ With his eyes too big/ And his mouth too wide,/ You'd better start runnin'/ 'Cause there's nowhere to hide.' I believe it may be linked to what we are hunting but that its original version may, also, not be in English.” The hunter noticed how the other man didn't bother to actually sing the lyrics but did copy the way the girls had said it and found the sound of the Angel missing letters off of words and shortening others odd. There was silence over the line whilst Bobby considered the rhyme, Dean figured, before there was more talking on Bobby's end and Castiel nodded. “Yes, I will try to do so. Thank you.” the Angel hung up and handed the phone back to Dean.

 

“Bobby says he will look into the rhyme but that he does not instantly recognise it from any where.” he said as Dean pocketed the phone.

 

“Well, if anyone could find some obscure rhyme, it'd be Bobby.” the hunter grinned slightly at the other man next to him. Fighting off another yawn, Dean stood and looked to the Angel. “Come on then. I suppose we'd better try and hit the sack and actually get some sleep.”

 

Castiel nodded once before standing to join Dean and they walked back to where the Impala was still parked in the shade of the town hall.

 

The ride back to the house was silent – Dean was mulling over what they had learnt in the case and trying to compare it with anything he had ever heard of but was, however, _still_ coming up with nothing. He just hoped that Bobby could find a trace of this rhyme that could give them some kind of a heads-up on what they were facing. Then again, Malik looked like he was now completely gone and his house made it seem as if he had never been there; Dean figured that maybe he had realised who they were and skipped town, possibly hundreds of miles away by now and selecting a new area to target.

 

Turning onto Joshua Avenue, the hunter noticed that the road was now clear of all the on-lookers who had gathered around the Carltons' house that morning but he could still see two police cars parked up with their occupants, presumably, inside said house.

 

He pulled into number eleven's drive and got out, the Angel following him into the house. It was cool inside and Dean found that his drowsiness was fading slightly. Given how his mind felt, he thought that it would probably take him a couple of hours to finally get to sleep.

 

Rubbing at the slight pain in his neck – which he presumed he had gotten from sleeping on that damn bench at an awkward angle – whilst kicking off his boots, Dean sat on the sofa and turned on the TV.

 

The elder brother heard the Seraph follow him as _Judge Judy_ cut to a commercial break. “Aren't you going to sleep, Dean?”

 

Looking over his shoulder at the other man he gave a slight shrug. “I was gonna but I don't think I'll be able to for a while. I promise I'll keep the noise down, hun.” he winked.

 

Castiel scowled slightly. “We're not in public right now.” he said as if Dean was not aware of that.

 

Rolling his eyes, but grinning slightly, he responded. “Call it method acting.”

 

The scowl didn't leave the Angel's face but he came to sit at the other end of the sofa. Without realising it, the hunter noticed, they had both chosen an end of the couch that they always ended up sitting in; Dean closer to the window whilst Castiel was further towards the back off the house.

 

Dean arched an eyebrow as he looked over at Cas. “You staying up to?”

 

The blue-eyed man nodded. “Yes; I do not believe that I could sleep right now either.”

 

Dean shrugged again. “Fair enough then.” he settled back into the cushions as the show came back on and reviewed some case that seemed incredibly stupid to the hunter.

 

~x~x~x~

 

An hour later, Dean was slightly bleary-eyed but still definitely awake as he skipped through the channels on the television.

 

“Heh, there's a repeat of _Love Connection_ on; that's always good for a-” he started, landing on a re-run of the old game show.

 

“No.” Castiel cut across him quite forcefully.

 

Intrigued, Dean turned to the Angel. “Any reason you hate it so much?”

 

Cas definitely felt himself blush as he remembered his own experience in Gabriel's TV Land over a year ago. “Gabriel.” was all he offered.

 

Dean snorted but carried on through the stations. “Okay, there is definitely a story worth telling somewhere in there and, so help me, I will hear it one day.”

 

The Angel turned to glare at his Charge. Memories of being forced onto that game show with Dean, Zachariah and Azazel as the other contestants still made his skin crawl.

 

“Whoa, okay, okay!” Dean held up his hands, catching sight of the look the Seraph was giving him. “So don't tell me. There's no need to look like you're gonna smite my ass.” he grumbled the last sentence.

 

Turning back to focus intently on whatever was on the screen, the Angel tried, once again, to suppress the memories of the entire experience.

 

~x~x~x~

 

Within half-an-hour, Dean was snoring lightly, his head lolled back onto the sofa whilst Castiel was still watching a documentary on insects. He believed that he would never not be intrigued by the life that existed on Earth; even compared to that of other planets that the Angels had visited and, in some cases, destroyed as part of the Host.

 

The programme was five minutes from ending when the hunter shifted and fell from leaning against the sofa to almost lying on top of Castiel who had folded his legs onto the seat next to him.

 

Frozen in place for a moment, the Seraph tried to extract himself from underneath Dean but came to no avail – if anything, Castiel's actions caused the hunter to roll over further and nestle against the other's side, still asleep.

 

Cas' mind went through a small internal debate; either he could wake Dean up and face the, possibly, awkward consequences or stay and try to sleep himself and then say that the situation must have occurred whilst they slept. After all, what was one little white lie to have a moment of happiness compared to what he was hiding to ensure their survival in the long term.

 

Decision made, Cas shifted further down onto the cushions so Dean's head lay on his shoulder whilst his left arm draped down across the Angel's chest and stomach, the hunter's own chest still rising and falling gently. Settling back, Castiel couldn't return his focus back to the programme but was, instead, enraptured with how peaceful and without worry the hunter looked in sleep and wondered if there were some way for him to make Dean so content even when awake.

 

A small, breathy laugh left his lips but did not disturb the sleeping man. “If only this were real, then maybe you could finally be at peace.” he said quietly, the words making him feel slightly bitter at how his feelings could never be returned, and that indulging such thoughts was sure to destroy him.

 

Hadn't that been what the other Angels had told him so long ago? Before Lucifer had risen? Dragged back to Heaven to be reminded that he was part of the Host and not _'them'_.

 

With a warmth in his chest and thoughts of how he wouldn't give up where he was at that moment for anything, the Angel also drifted off.

 

~x~x~x~

 

Bright sunlight cut into his vessel's eyes whilst the blistering heat made his whole body thrum as if electricity were being passed over his skin. Of course, it was nothing compared to the energy held within this form but it still heightened the experience because he could feel it through a human's sensitive nerve endings and senses.

 

“Fall back! Regroup outside of the walls and push forward!” Castiel looked over to find Camael, holding his sword, which was burning with white fire, and motioning for the other Celestial soldiers to move away from the front lines.

 

His form was dark skinned with a deep blue cloth covering his head and falling to his shoulders but leaving his face open and his eyes were rimmed with black paint. His chest was mostly uncovered save for a large rim of white fabric that fell to just past his collarbone before going over his shoulders and his waist was wrapped in a similar material but with a thick, gold belt that held an assortment of other weapons. On his left arm was a gold gauntlet while his right bore a bronze one. Large, golden wings protruded from his back and were extended in a show of aggression.

 

Looking around, Castiel realised where he was; Egypt, but many millennia ago. The Host had been called down to fight... An oppressive king, but the Angel could not remember who exactly.

 

His own vessel was also tanned and dressed in battle armour fit for the age with his own black wings extended, the edges pointed and sharpened to fend of any attacks.

 

A quick glance around his, showed other Angels in similar attire, in both male and female forms, and with wings of all colours and sizes out and enlarged to show defiance at who they were facing.

 

Seeing the others take flight and circle back in the opposite direction, the Seraph joined them. Whilst flying he heard a sonic boom and a bright stream of gold and white light shot past him towards the sounds of fighting; shouting, clashes of metal and the wicked _shwing_ of swords, arrows and spears cutting through the air.

 

Turning to hover and watch, the light landed in the centre of the opposite, but advancing, forces, forming a crater almost half a mile wide. When the tidal waves of dust cleared, a man stood holding a long, golden horn, surrounded by fallen enemies.

 

 _Gabriel_ , Castiel half remembered and half realised.

 

At the sight of the Archangel, others had also flown back to observe the scene.

 

The crowds of the enemy had backed away from Gabriel; whose large, white wings were spread to their furthest wing-span – about three times the length of his vessel on either side of him. As a deep laugh cut through the scorching, desert air and reached Castiel's ears, the opposing soldiers began moving aside from in front of the Archangel and a horse-drawn chariot came to a stop in front of him: its rider, the source of the laughter.

 

The rider had a black headdress and a dark red material was draped from his waist whilst broad, leather bands crossed hiss chest. From the headdress, protruded two, curled black horns like a ram's. _No_ , Castiel corrected himself; _the horns were coming **through** the headdress_.

 

“Molech.” he breathed.

 

“Yes, brother.” Castiel turned to find Anna – _Anael_ – facing him. “The god of children's nightmares.”

 

As words were traded between his elder brother and the king – Molech, Castiel now reminded himself – he suddenly remembered. The rhyme he had heard earlier was one he had heard when the Host had lain siege to Molech's empire to take down the god.

 

The survivors, if there were any, of attacks on towns and villages conducted by the god's armies would sing about stolen souls, his burning fires and the god himself; the song that Castiel had heard in Springdale Fields.

 

“Move forward, flank our brother!” Tzadkiel called whilst diving, with his rust coloured wings flattened against his back, towards the scene below them. The other Angels followed behind him, blades drawn and descending towards the Earth to resume the battle and Castiel went with them; black wings fanning out to steady himself as he reached the opposing army.

 

Joining the fray, despite now knowing it was a dream, Castiel recalled everything he knew about Molech.

 

The god, who had claimed himself to be a king all that time ago, had demanded child sacrifices when he deemed that the 'planets had aligned' and if he did not receive them, he would burn down entire towns and villages. When the Angels had taken him in, he had claimed that 'a parent's misery is just the best kind' and would burn his sacrifices before eating the burnt heart. In return for the sacrifices, not only would he leave the rest of the population reasonably unharmed, but crops would not fail and the harvest would be a good one.

 

Molech had also accepted self-sacrifices from parents to protect their children or other people to protect those they loved but, for the most part, he would insist that those who were to die had to not yet come of age.

 

Slicing through a soul-less body under Molech's command, Castiel tried to recall what could kill the god but could not remember – he knew that Molech had been taken by another Garrison to Heaven and he had never heard about him since, never bothered to question.

 

Turning, he swung his arm baring his blade high, disarming his opponent before pushing him back with his shield and into the direction of another enemy who was being bared down upon by Uriel as if he were a cornered mouse.

 

A sharp pain shot through the upper arch of the right wing so he sharpened the edge and pushed backwards before turning to find his attacker clutching her stomach, long gashes cutting across it from where Castiel's wing had sliced at her.

 

All of the people around them were devoid of a soul, Castiel could see it; they were only bodies as their minds were ensnared by Molech into doing his bidding, whatever it may be, without doubt or question. All of these people had lost loved ones to his hands and had begged for him to take them instead while he ended up taking both anyway.

 

A sharp jerk of his shoulder brought him back, but it wasn't from the dream/memory; this was from the waking world.

 

Another jolt and a call of “Cas!” and he was awake, Dean looking down at him, eyes wide.

 

“Dude, are you okay? I was gone for about ten minutes, I come back and you're having a seizure in your sleep.” the hunter asked as Castiel sat back on the sofa from where he had, evidently, fallen onto the floor whilst dreaming.

 

“I'm fine, Dean.” he assured the other man, who he noticed had changed clothes and had, apparently, turned the TV off. “However, I now believe I know what we're facing.”

 

The older Winchester brother looked up at him at that. “W- what do you think it is?”

 

The Angel's voice became hard. “Something I believed to be dead; I believe it to be the old god, Molech.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would ya look at that; I did proper research for my story, for once.  
> Molech is an actual god/king in African mythology that is even mentioned in the Old Testament.  
> Then again, I have also taken great 'artistic liberties' with what I found out about him...  
> He was a god of sacrifice but mainly children, although self-sacrifice is listed under what was excepted by him, and would kill people using fire; is this all making sense with my story now?  
> As for when sacrifices were taken, I couldn't find /anything/ so I went for the Jupiter cycle because I found that sacrifices in pagan rituals sometimes went when planets could be seen so I picked one and went with it.  
> Horns are also often depicted as being an attribute of his, sometimes he's described as having a bulls face but yeah...  
> I'll stop going on about my choice of villain for now...
> 
> I would once again like to thank my beta, infinitejellybean, for checking over the chapter, helping me with the title and not laughing at my AU ideas...
> 
> THANKS TO YOU TOO, 'CAUSE YOU'RE READING SO I LOVE YOU!!! (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧


	11. Boyfriend of Nothing (Part 1)

Dean came out of his sleep steadily and found that the TV was still on and he had basically been sleeping on top of Castiel. The hunter froze, noticing how the Angel's own head was resting slightly on top of his, the chest he was flush against rising and falling gently, the breaths tickling the back of Dean's neck.

 

More awake now, Dean noticed that the portion of sky that he could see outside was streaked with pinks and oranges while darker hues of purple were just visible above the top of the houses and trees across the street while the lamps outside gave everything a slightly yellow tinge.

 

Back to assessing his current situation, Dean knew that he should be coming up with a way to get away and be shouting 'eww, what, _cuddling??!_ ' or something similar but, in reality, he was entirely content to just stay where he was and just be relaxed for a little while. He vaguely remembered falling asleep so that meant that either he had fallen on to Castiel's shoulder whilst the Angel was asleep (more likely, to Dean, considering how he was still alive and had not been thrown from the sofa or pushed off of the other man, at the very least) or the Seraph had been too tired to move his unconscious body from on top of him. Dean didn't even bother to entertain the idea that, maybe, he had fallen asleep on Cas who didn't mind because he actually feels the same way as Dean feels about him – after all, why would someone - or some _thing_ \- like Cas care about a poor excuse for a human like Dean?

 

No, instead the elder Winchester began to untangle himself from the Angel without disturbing him – if he stayed there any longer, he'd either break down because he was so close to what he really wanted or because bitterness would make him mad at Castiel even though he knew it wouldn't be justified.

 

Standing carefully, Dean watched as Cas rolled over slightly to face the back of the sofa and shifted further down into the warmth that the hunter's body had left. Dean was as quiet as he could be when leaving the room, after turning off the television, trying not to slip on the too-smooth wooden floor as he made his way upstairs to shower.

 

The hunter locked the door to the bathroom after turning on the shower and – using his skills that he had fine-tuned at so many motels – set the water temperature to one that wouldn't boil is skin. He washed quickly, hoping to get some more sleep in if he could; Heaven knew (they probably did, actually) how little he normally slept so, any excuse to get more than four hours, he was going to take it.

 

Dean was pulling on a clean T-shirt and a pair of jeans, towelling his hair dry when he heard what sounded like something that bordered being a shout and a scream from beyond the bathroom door.

 

Theories rushed through the hunter's head, each worse than the last: someone's broken in and Cas has attacked them, someone's got in and attacked Cas, what they're hunting has found them and is hurting Cas. His fists were bunched at his sides as he took the stairs in twos and threes, grabbing the end of the bannister and using it to propel himself forward into the living room, adrenalin making everything seem both blurry and in overly-sharp focus, colours stabbing at his eyes as he took everything in.

 

He rounded the doorway into the living room and found that everything was as he had left it, except Cas was on the floor and he was _twitching_. As Dean watched, the Angel's body twisted and his right side arched up high, as if moving away from pain as another shout left his mouth; it was sharp and guttural – by Dean's standards, it did _not_ look like a good dream.

 

The elder Winchester scrambled over to the Seraph and shook his shoulder whilst saying “Cas!”

 

There was no real response so Dean tried again, shaking his shoulder harder and calling the Angel's name louder.

 

This time, the Angel's eyes snapped open; the pupils shrinking and a faint white flash dissipating in the depths of blue that seemed so unnatural to the hunter. His arm came up to clutch at Dean's forearm like it had the other night, when he had last been woken from a nightmare.

 

“Dude, are you okay? I was gone for about ten minutes, I come back and you're having a seizure in your sleep.” Dean asked, helping the Seraph up and back onto the sofa before sitting down next to him. He noticed how Castiel seemed a little out of it and shaken, his breathing shaky and shallow.

 

“I'm fine, Dean.” he said and Dean resisted the urge to raise his eyebrows and ask 'Oh, really?'. “However, I now believe I know what we're facing.”

 

Castiel's voice had turned so hard and closed off that the elder Winchester looked over at him. “W- what do you think it is?” Dean knew that if it had the Angel rattled, it was probably something really freaking bad.

 

“Something I believed to be dead; I believe it to be the old god, Molech.” the Angel continued in that tone that reminded the hunter of when they had first met – that night when Dean's whole life had been, once again, flipped over and changed in a flurry of wings, exploding lights and thunder.

 

Dean gave a small grin that probably ended up more sheepish than apologising. “That would probably make me worry a lot more if I knew who that actually was.”

 

The Angel shot him an exasperated look and the hunter was glad to see that the fear from the dream was receding from his eyes and posture, leaking away until Cas just seemed exhausted. “You have never read the Bible, have you Dean?”

 

The older brother shook his head slightly and Castiel puffed out a small sigh. “Molech was an old god who ruled and was worshipped in northern Africa. He would demand sacrifices or destroy whole towns and villages. His tributes would be burnt before he would eat their heart, and in return he would grant others to live and a good harvest. The Host was sent millennia ago to dispel his rule and his soulless followers.” he explained and the case started to make more sense to Dean.

 

“So, how do we kill him?”

 

Cas tilted his head, eyes growing distant. “I believe he was once harmed by his own sacrificial flame so I suppose he can be burnt.”

 

“Provided we use _his_ flame?” Castiel nodded. “I suppose that means we'll have to find him and where he's been cooking these people so we can give him a taste of his own medicine.”

 

Cas' eyes narrowed. “We need to burn him, not try and cure any illness he might have.”

 

Dean couldn't help but huff out a laugh. “It's an expression, Cas, we're not really gonna try and feed him Neurofen or anything.”

 

Castiel's mouth lifted into a hint of a smile, then. “Oh, I understand now. It is rather like Gabriel's testament of 'just deserts'?”

 

The hunter responded with a small smile of his own. “Yeah, I guess it is.” There was a small pause where the two gazed at each other before Dean mentally shook himself, thinking _'Jeez, man, keep it together!'_ and he stood up. “Uh, do you want something to eat or...” Dean trailed off, at a loss for what to say, whilst heading towards the kitchen.

 

The hunter went to see what they had left in the cupboards from their only grocery run and found that Dean would probably have just enough to make two relatively decent plates of pasta. He started turning on the oven and getting out dishes as the Angel sat at the table on the other side of the room, arms hugging around his chest as if keeping in warmth.

 

 _He probably is_ , Dean reminded himself; hadn't he said that he was 'as hot as a nuclear reactor' or something but that still wasn't hot enough? And, _no_ , Dean definitely _wasn't_ thinking that Cas still looked pretty hot, especially in jeans that hung on his hips in a relatively obscene way.

No.

Nothing like that.

 

“I'll take that as you want some of my amazing, five-star pasta then?” Dean smirked over the counter to where Castiel sat.

 

“Yes, please.” The Angel yawned slightly in the middle of his sentence and the hunter didn't think he was cute.

Nope.

Damn, what was _happening_ to him??!

 

Twenty minutes later, both of them were sitting at the table with a plate of pasta topped off with a generous helping of tomato sauce and meatballs.

 

Dean was eyeing Castiel – completely discreetly – whilst he seemed to be thinking about something, a fork of pasta forgotten halfway to his mouth. He decided to ask, as the pasta slid back onto the plate without the Angel's realising. “Cas, you okay? You seem a little out of it and if you're not careful, the pasta might get away from you.” he nodded towards the strands of spaghetti that were dangling from the Seraph's fork in a last-ditch effort for freedom.

 

“I'm fine, I was just... Considering how Molech is even here.” he placed his fork down and stared at his plate. “I remember that, after the battle and his chariot fell, another Garrison had him bound and chained. They took him away and I heard that it was to Heaven's prison where they keep anything they want to monitor or question, except now he is back on Earth again when that prison is supposedly inescapable.”

 

Dean shrugged. “I would have thought they'd just kill him.”

 

Cas took another stab at his pasta. “Yes, that would also seem more probable.” The Angel was worrying his lip slightly, looking at the meatball on his fork as if it could tell him why the god was up and about again.

 

“If it puts your mind at ease, we'll ask him what happened before we light his ass up like the beacons of Gondor.” the hunter grinned as he finished off his own meal and got up to place his plate in the sink; he'd deal with the washing up... when he could be bothered.

 

The hunter turned back to find Cas creasing his brow in confusion. “Dean, why do you make such references when you know I won't understand them?”

 

Well that hadn't been the question Dean had expected. “Uh...” he scratched the back of his neck. “I don't know. I guess I just say stuff like that all the time and I just, sort of, forget that you haven't seen the stuff I mention.”

 

The Angel's head tilted. “So, I am like everyone else to you?”

 

Dean's head snapped up to look at Castiel. “What? Well, no? Yes? I don't know; I mean,you're family, man, I've told you this before.” _You could be more_ , Dean added mentally but kept his mouth very firmly _shut_.

 

The Seraph's mouth twitched into a small smile that could barely be seen. “I think of you as family, also, Dean.”

 

Once again their eyes locked and neither turned away. It could have been seconds or years before Dean realised what he'd been doing. Promising himself a full mental shake-down and his mind a stern speaking to later, Dean started to move towards the front room.

 

“Well, I'm gonna hit the hay again, Cas. We can call Sam in the morning, 'kay?” he called over to where he heard Cas clearing away his own plate.

 

“That sounds reasonable. He is also closer to where Malik worked and seemed to choose his targets, perhaps he can ask other employees about him?” the Angel's head came around the door frame to the hall as he asked.

 

Dean nodded, his brain already slipping into sleep mode. “Sounds good.” Yawning, the hunter sat back down on the sofa, rubbing a hair through his hair unconsciously.

 

“Goodnight, Dean.” Cas said quietly and then the sound of sock-on-laminate footsteps sounded faintly as he made his way up the stairs.

 

Falling onto his side on the couch, Dean sighed. He was so utterly and truly screwed.

 

~x~x~x~

 

When Dean next awoke, he was curled up with the blanket clutched firmly in his hands. He couldn't remember what he had dreamed about but, judging from the light sheen of sweat that seemed to coat his entire body, it hadn't been exactly pleasant.

 

He grabbed his jacket from where he had put it over the back of the armchair by the window and pulled out his phone. The screen read half past seven and Dean wondered if it was too early to phone his brother. Part of him suggested ringing to wake him up and fulfil his 'douche-y big brother' quota for the next couple of weeks while another part suggested that he'd probably got up to go jogging.

 

Deciding that, because Sammy was a health-nut, the latter was more likely, Dean decided to get Cas to ring him when he (finally) got up. Pulling his, slightly large, sweatpants slightly tighter so they didn't drag on the floor and trip him up or something, knowing his luck, Dean pulled a T-shirt from the duffel beside the armchair and threw it on before heading towards the kitchen.

 

The hunter flicked on the coffee machine – possibly the most used thing in the house they were staying in – and set about inspecting the last remains of the bread they had bought. It didn't _seem_ mouldy so it'd, probably, be okay if it was toasted, Dean figured. He made a mental note to do a supply run later.

 

~x~x~x~

 

It was ten o'clock when Castiel finally came down into the living room, wearing, the now seemingly customary, three jumpers and a pair of sweatpants. His hair was even more ridiculous than usual with one side flattened whilst the other side was sticking up in every way imaginable.

 

He sat at the opposite end of the sofa from Dean who was already dressed and sitting with the laptop balanced on his knee as he looked into the Molech guy. He had half-a-dozen other names to go by and had, apparently, been what could be specified as a 'big deal' back in the day. There were even accounts of him being in ancient Roman and Greek scriptures as a god of Carthage before it was burnt down; such a big deal that they specifically raised children to sacrifice. Just reading about it made Dean sick but, hey, this was his job and somebody had to do it.

 

The elder Winchester brother nodded towards the laptop screen. “I can see why you got rid of this guy; seems like a dick.”

 

The Angel nodded as he rubbed his eyes lightly. “Yes, he was not a kind or loving being. He did not treat his followers adequately.” came the gruff voice that was slightly hoarse from sleep.

 

Dean didn't bother mention how some of the Angels had treated humans but, instead, chose to stay focused on the here and now and that meant the hunt. “Reckon you could explain this to Sammy? Seems like you'd do a better job with it than me, with the whole, you know, having actually fought him and everything.” Sometimes Dean forgot that an ancient and celestial being was all cased up behind those blue eyes and trenchcoat but, every now and then, something would happen and the whole reality would crash into him again.

 

Cas nodded slowly. “Yes, I am happy to inform Sam... But I think my mind requires caffeine first.”

 

The hunter couldn't help but to huff a laugh. “Wow; I've managed to get an Angel addicted to coffee.”

 

A slight scowl met Dean's small grin. “I am not 'addicted',” Cas made the air quotes. “I just find that it helps me to focus and supply a certain amount of energy which feels similar to that normally supplied by my Grace.”

 

Dean's grin only got wider. “Of course you're not addicted, Cas.”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes but headed towards the kitchen.

 

Figuring that it might as well be done then instead of later, Dean decided he'd go on the supply run now and give Sleeping Beauty some more time to wake up properly. The hunter called as much to Cas - who gave a 'I will see you later then, Dean' in return – as he pulled on his jacket and went out.

 

Despite it being fairly late in the morning, the air was still cool and only a few thin clouds drifted aimlessly in the large expanse of pale blue sky. It was so fitting of Dean's view of what the 'apple pie life' looked like, that he half expected the _Leave it to Beaver_ theme to start playing in the background.

 

Heading over to Baby, he unlocked the door and climbed in, smiling slightly as he turned the key and she purred to life – if there was a downside to this case and playing house, it was that he wasn't getting enough quality time with his car.

 

The drive to the supermarket took no longer than fifteen minutes on the almost-empty streets of the small town, and by twenty-five minutes past ten, Dean was pulling into the small parking lot for the Springdale Fields' only supermarket; a fairly miniature store called _Fareway_ that proclaimed its name in simple, yet large, red letters above a banner of yellow with a red stripe. Honestly, it looked like one of the stores that Sam would more likely visit rather than him.

 

The elder brother smiled slightly at the thought of Sam loving the 'economical food store' - as the sign boasted – so much that he'd write to the owners and get them to open a store in Sioux Falls so he could get all his rabbit food cheaply whilst staying with Bobby.

 

Humming _Shoot to Thrill_ under his breath, Dean grabbed a basket from beside the automatic doors and went into the – thankfully, well air conditioned – store. The inside was brightly lit with aisles, each sporting 'only $1!' or 'now half price!' deals on every other shelf, stretching out in front of him and then through the rest of the store to his right.

 

Dean made quick work of finding all of the essentials that they would need to live in the picturesque town for another... However long it took to find and burn this Molech guy. Dean was just deciding between which pie he was going to buy – cherry or apple, tough decision – when he heard an angry whisper behind him.

 

“Yeah, that's the other one.” came an angry hiss from a relatively high voice.

 

Dean looked down the aisle and then behind him. He was the only other one in this section apart from the middle-aged couple behind him. “I'm sorry, can I help you?” he asked, plastering on a small grin. Maybe they had him confused with someone else.

 

“We don't need any help from _your kind_.” sneered the man. He was about a head shorter than Dean and balding. His wiry frame covered in a pale blue button down that seemed, at least, three sizes to large while worn khakis hung from a tight belt at his waist.

 

“I'm sorry, what?” The hunter didn't recognise him at all but he was already getting under his skin.

 

“You're the other half of that gay couple.” the woman almost spat, casually placing a jar of something in the trolley she was pushing.

 

It suddenly made sense to Dean and, even if he was pretending, it made his blood boil – it wasn't even their business! “Okay, I really don't mean to offend but is it your problem if-”

 

“The other faggot was in the church on Sunday; personally I don't think they should let you lot in a sacred place like that.” she continued as if Dean had never spoke. Her auburn hair was pulled tightly back off her face and into a ponytail, stretching out her features until it was almost painful to look at. Narrow eyes were framed by thin glasses whilst her sneering lips were coated in bright red. She wore a simple T-shirt with blue sleeves and jeans but both looked worn.

 

The hunter almost smiled slightly at the irony but he was too stunned by what they had just said. Sure, he knew people could be homophobic but just starting an argument – heck, in _public_ – seemed slightly of the ridiculous side. Dean figured it could have been worse, however; they could have openly attacked him physically but they seemed – or, at least, Dean _hoped_ they were – more civilised than that.

 

Narrowing his eyes, the eldest Winchester drew himself up to his full height. “Not that it really has anything to do with you, but I am perfectly happy with my sexuality, so I guess you can just move along.”

 

Taking a step closer, the other man tried to look down on Dean but failed quite miserably. _Maybe he will try to attack me_ , the hunter thought. As the balding man opened his mouth to spit something else, someone Dean _did_ recognise turned into the aisle.

 

“Oh, knock it off, Gerald. You're not scaring anybody.” Daniel, Rachel's husband, sighed, his own basket held tightly in his right hand.

 

The other man - _Gerald_ , Dean reminded himself – looked as if he was going to argue but Daniel gave him a look that Dean was pretty sure could rival Sammy's infamous bitchface. Dean simply raised his eyebrows as Gerlad's wife, he presumed, glared at him before they left the aisle.

 

Dan sighed again, relaxing a little now they had left and pushed his glasses further up his nose. “Yeah, those two are a pain in _everyone_ 's back side; I feel sorry for their children.”

 

“They have children?” Dean asked, honestly surprised. “Well, I feel sorry for them too.”

 

Daniel puffed out a humourless laugh. “Yeah, well... Oh, before I forget. Josh told me to invite you and Cas to his birthday 'get together' – his words, not mine – on Friday. Said he meant to tell everyone on Saturday but forgot.” Daniel rolled his eyes. “Do you know where he and Cathy live?”

 

The hunter thought back to all the people he'd met on Saturday. He remembered talking to Cathy, at least, but he couldn't really remember the guy with her. “Uhh, yeah, I think so? Elm Street, right? Number... Six, I think?” Damn, he could remember basically the entirety of his dad's journal but not a freaking address.

 

“Number sixteen.” Dan correct and Dean nodded slightly in acknowledgement. “Myself and Rachel are going too, so I guess I'll see you there. And if you run into Gerald again, just say that you know what he used to keep in his shed and he'll clam right up.” Daniel's grin was slightly mischievous and reminded Dean of himself a little.

 

“Do I want to know?” the elder Winchester inquired.

 

Daniel laughed as he started to walk away. “It's not _that_ bad. I'll see you on Friday.” he waved slightly before disappearing around the corner.

 

 _Maybe I'm not the only one with a few secrets_ , Dean thought idily.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've split this chapter in half because it was becoming a monster but, in total, both parts should cover the entirety of Wednesday.
> 
> As for Fareway, that is actually a brand of supermarket that you can find in Iowa (I looked this up... wow...) and, in 2013, they opened a store in Sioux Falls. That concludes today's useless fact session.
> 
> I would just like to say that, if you have time, then you should read this to 'this is a grace', a mix on 8tracks radio by letterofstars; it's absolutely perfect and helps me overcome Destiel-induced writer's block...
> 
> Thank you to infinitejellybean for encouragement and patience whilst I got my act together and actually wrote and then beta-ing the stuff I do write.
> 
> THANKS TO YOU GUYS TOO FOR BEING AWESOME AND GETTING ME TO ACTUALLY WRITE!!
> 
> ~~other stuff~~  
> now cross-posting on FF.net (IggyLikesPie there too)  
> my tumblr is bakura-reads-yaoi


	12. Boyfriend of Nothing (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel narrow down the locations where Molech could be hiding and Sam decides to get the show on the road, already!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so SO sorry this took so long - I would make excuses like 'I was in Italy' or whatever but, when it comes down to it, I was just pretty lazy. 
> 
> so yeah, enjoy this 8000+ word monster of a chapter to make up for that. c:

As Dean drove back to number eleven, Joshua Avenue, he couldn't help but to think about what that other couple had said whilst in _Fareway_.

 

_'The other faggot was in the church on Sunday'._

 

Had they said something to Cas? Despite knowing that Cas could handle himself, even in a bound state, Dean couldn't help the protective shiver that ran through his body and made his blood boil slightly.

 

As Dean's feelings towards the couple began to slip further and further into _I-want-you-out-of-the-country-or-so-help-me-God-I-will-not-be-held-accountable-for-what-I-do_ , rain began to splatter against the wind shield and a distant roll of thunder sounded over the Impala's engine.

 

By the time Dean pulled up outside of their temporary house, thick sheets of rain were falling that sounded like bullets on top of Baby's hood while the thunder only grew louder along with lightning whiting out his vision for seconds at a time.

 

The hunter grabbed the bags from the shotgun seat and all but ran to the front door in an effort to avoid the worst of the rain. Despite his efforts, by the time the elder Winchester shut the door behind him, his clothes were soaked through, the shopping bags seemed to be carrying more water in them than food and his hair was plastered to his scalp. Dean toed off his boots and slipped his jacket off, leaving both in the hall to dry out, hopefully.

 

Dean placed the two bags in the kitchen where they left damp marks on the counter top and turned to find Cas staring at him from the kitchen table, phone at his ear and giving him a slightly odd look.

 

“It's raining.” was Dean's lame reply before he went to try and find a towel or _something_ to dry off with. He could feel his damp jeans trying to become one with his legs and was already dreading having to remove the denim from his skin. The hunter grabbed one of the towels from the side of the bath and began towelling his hair dry as he hopped back down the stairs and into the kitchen.

 

“... Believe we can do that, yes.” Cas was saying, his eyes looking to his right where he held the phone to his ear as if he could stare through the phone to whoever he is talking to.

 

“Who is it?” Dean asked quietly, sitting opposite from Cas.

 

The Angel turned his bright gaze onto Dean for a moment while he replied. “Your brother. He wishes to know if we can meet him tonight to discuss the case.” he informed the elder brother before turning back to the phone. He was quiet for a moment, his head tilting in the slightly avian way of his before he spoke again. “Yes, of course.” and then Cas was holding the phone out to Dean who took it and held it up to his own ear.

 

“'Sup, Sammy?” he grinned even if his brother couldn't see it. Dean would never admit it, but just hearing Sam's voice and hearing that he was okay always relaxed a tension the elder brother wouldn't realise was there until he was speaking with Sam.

 

A sigh crackled through the phone that only made Dean's grin wider. “I was just seeing if you and Cas can come down to this bar in town so we can discuss the case better. I think I need some more time to fully digest the whole big bad god thing.”

 

“Okay, sounds good. You got any where in mind or...?”

 

“Yeah, actually; there's a little place off of McGregor’s Lane called the Seven Widows Brewhouse. Reckon you could be there at about eight?”

 

Dean thought to what he could remember of the town's layout. McGregor's Lane was two streets over from the square, right? Or was it one? Or was it behind it and next to the laundromat? Ah, who was he kidding? He couldn't remember, he'd just look it up before they went out.

 

“Yeah, I'm sure we can be there. Unless Cas has gotten us roped into another barbecue or something.” the hunter smirked as Cas gave him a decidedly pissy look, his eyes narrowing and lips pinching slightly into a thin line.

 

“First of all, that helped, I believe, in finding who was in our vicinity and secondly, _it's raining_.” the Angel raised his voice slightly in a (very poor, according to Dean) imitation of the hunter.

 

A chuckle from the phone shook the elder brother from his slight shock. “Dude, did Cas just _imitate_ you?”

 

“What? No, he just- Shut up.” and that just meant his little bitch of a brother laughed harder. Traitor. Glaring at the, now smirking, Angel, Dean sighed. “I swear you two are teaming up on me.” he grumbled. “Anyway, we'll be there tonight.”

 

“I'll see you then I'm going to go see if I can get into the estate agent's security cameras; see what Malik – or Molech, I guess – is doing.” Sam said, the clicking of keys sounding in the background. “I'll call you again if I see him around but Cas reckons he might know we're here and after him.”

 

Dean rubbed his forehead. “Great. If he's skipped town, we might not get another chance to catch him, especially if he's gonna lay low or something.”

 

“Fingers crossed, then. See you later, Dean.”

 

“Yeah, bye Sammy.” the older brother said before hanging up. God, he hoped Molech hadn't skipped out; just figuring out who this dick was was hard enough and tracking him again would be an unnecessary pain in their already-pained-derrières.

 

Dean put the phone down on the table and rested his head in his hand. Glancing at the clock next to the back door showed that it was only ten to twelve and that meant many hours of Dean had no idea what.

 

Thankfully, Cas broke the silence that had settled on the kitchen-slash-dining room. It hadn't been uncomfortable but still a little tense, the same kind of silence that settled in the Impala when Dean had turned off his tapes, for once, and they were on their way to finish that week's hunt. Charged and a little unnerving would be how Dean would describe it – he just hoped that this meant they all felt the hunt was drawing to its climax.

 

“I believe I may have located areas where Molech might be hiding out.” That got Dean's attention and he turned to look at the Seraph and raised an eyebrow at him so he'd continue. “Besides having palaces, Molech used to seek out dark and hidden places. He used to inhabit large, underground cave systems which is where we found many numbers of his followers. The library should have old plans of the town so we should go and see if any buildings in the area have large cellars where he could set up.

 

“Sounds like a plan. Do you wanna go now or have lunch first? Well, if anything has survived the oceans that've set up shop in the bags, that is.” Dean picked up the towel from around his shoulders, where he had placed it while taking the phone, and ran it over his head one more time.

 

He looked back up to find Cas staring quite intensely at the table, and was that a slight blush Dean spotted? Surely not, right...? “Well, your burgers were very good...”

 

Dean smiled slightly when the Seraph looked up and gave him what could only be described as 'puppy eyes'.

 

He mentally slapped himself and _swore_ that he would have his, very severe, mental shakedown later.

 

…

 

God, he was _so fucking_ _**whipped** _ _!_

 

~x~x~x~

 

Arriving at the library meant that Castiel was, once again, faced with a computer. He knew how it worked: how every molecule fitted together, but not how it _worked_. How one code could lead to another. Angels had no need for technology; between the Host, all knowledge is shared and everything is known. Whilst he had been more human during the apocalypse-that-never-was, the Seraph had never personally needed to use a computer; Sam had taken care of the majority of online research.

 

Dean seemed to notice his apprehensive look at the computer before shooting him a knowing grin. “Want to take the books?” he asked, nudging his shoulder with his own.

 

A small nod was met with a huff of laughter from Dean who took the computer on the end next to the table where the librarian had placed a box labelled 'Plans: 1951 – 2001', claiming that those would be the only documents with any relevant information in them now.

 

Castiel removed the dusty lid and sat down, gladly noticing that the files seemed to be organised. The library wasn't as quiet as when he and Dean had last visited. There was a low buzz of murmured conversations from people browsing the aisles or from where they were, presumably, discussing the books they were reading with the person next to them. In the far left corner from where Cas sat there was a colourful mat with many young children sat on it facing someone reading a brightly coloured book in eccentric voices.

 

The angel quickly located blueprints for the larger buildings in town, deciding to start there first he sat down and studied each carefully. Some had small notes stuck to them in various kinds of hand writing that seemed to indicate these documents had been used over many years by students for projects about the town.

 

Methodically, Castiel studied each file carefully, looking for anything that could provide the necessary cover for Molech and the people he was, undoubtedly, keeping bound and with no soul in order to do his bidding.

 

Anything that looked as if it could house the god was placed to the side while any file that held little to no promise was placed back in the box where they were all stored in.

 

It was three o'clock when Dean tipped back in his chair and looked up from where he was balancing to look at Cas. “Please tell me you've found something,” he started, rubbing a hand through his hair. “'Cause I've come up with jack diddly squat.”

 

His hazel eyes were hopeful as he looked up at the Angel who nodded slightly before gathering the few files he had found useful and flicking through them. He had just been checking other files again to see if he had missed anything but likely locations remained low. “I have found a few but none of them seem perfectly ideal. There's the town hall but I don't see how he would be able to gain access to it other than going through any of the main doors, not convenient despite the space given.” Dean sat up and turned to face the other man as he handed him the file so he could see for himself.

 

“Next is a block of warehouses to the east of the town.” Opening a new file, Cas pulled out photos of the building he was talking about. “There are four main buildings with smaller offices attached, mainly on the ground. Three are occupied, according to the file, while another is empty. It would seem a likely place for him to set up except there would also be too many people around for it to be a discreet operation.”

 

Dean 'hmm'd as he looked over what Castiel had been reading from.

 

“I only have one other that seemed at all suitable,” the Angel picked up the last file that seemed relevant and began to leaf through it. “And it also seems as if it could be the most likely. Underneath the south west of the town is an old sewer system that was cut off from the rest due to a risk of flooding and collapse. It has been closed for almost forty years, including an office-like area that was built to the side of the tunnels for the workers to keep in contact with the surface.” Castiel passed Dean the document as he carried on. “The only problem is that all of the entrances were filled in with concrete and no disturbances have ever been reported.” Looking up, Castiel found that Dean was watching him as he talked, file seemingly forgotten in his hand while his eyes seemed to have glazed over slightly, a small smile gracing his features.

 

Much to Cas' annoyance, he felt his vessel flush lightly under Dean's casual look and he coughed. “Dean, are you paying attention? This is important?” he held the hunter's gaze until the other man's eyes sharpened into focus again and he nodded.

 

“Yeah, course I am. Mr. Big-Shot Baddy might be camping out in the sewers.” he summarised.

 

Cas raised his eyebrows slightly. “Yes, I suppose that is the gist of what I was saying.”

 

“So, I passed the test, _sir_?” the hunter asked sarcastically. “Do I get a gold star and a reward?”

 

The Seraph mentally shook himself, his Grace quivering under his skin which just seemed to make even more heat spill into his borrowed blood. _Dean was joking_ , he reminded himself. _He only wants your friendship and nothing more. You're his guardian and friend; a brother in arms; nothing more_ , Castiel thought. _And besides_ , a dark voice whispered in the back of his mind, _You don't deserve him. Not after all you've done and ever failed to do._

 

Castiel opted to scowl lightly before gathering the files back together; part of it at his own wandering mind and part of it at Dean for causing him to feel, even if it wasn't his fault. It didn't matter, the Angel could feel guilty about it later.

 

_Feeling._

 

That was the problem. Cas vaguely wondered if anything would be easier if he had never learnt how to feel.

 

“Well,” Dean stretched his arms above his head until they popped before rolling his shoulders, sighing lightly. “You found a load more than I did so if anyone gets a gold star, it should probably be you.” he clapped the Seraph's shoulder as he stood and tucked his chair back under the desk.

 

As Castiel stood and clipped the lid back onto the files' box, the librarian seemed to appear from no where, already extending her hands for the box.

 

“Finished, already?” she asked, pushing her glasses slightly further up her thin nose. Her face was not unkind but had an almost stretched appearance, with each feature being long and thin beneath her wrinkling skin, while her grey hair was pulled back into a bun at the base of her skull.

 

“Yes, they were very informative, thank you.” Castiel replied earnestly, bowing his head slightly, as he handed over the container for the files.

 

The older woman seemed slightly surprised at the warmth in Cas' tone but soon smiled as she accepted the box. “I'm glad we could help. Have a nice day, now.” she said before walking away with the files to return them to the archive.

 

“You too, ma'am.” Dean called but was shushed by somebody using another computer. The hunter threw them a small glare – that they missed as they were back to staring intently at the screen – before nudging Cas. “C'mon Cas, we'd better actually go find this bar. I have no idea where it is and if we show up late, Sammy'll throw a bitch fit.”

 

The Angel nodded once before following Dean from the library and back to where the Impala was parked. Instead of getting in, the hunter stopped beside the door and bit his lip, as if thinking something over.

 

“Say,” he finally started. “D'you wanna find this bar on foot? Seems like a bit of a waste starting the car for how long it'll probably take us to find it and we can always walk back here so it won't be too much trouble or we can just ta-”

 

“Dean,” Castiel smiled slightly at how Dean rambled when slightly nervous.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I don't mind walking.”

 

The hunter regained some of his usual composure then and smirked slightly. “Let's go then.”

 

They left the car where it was parked and started walking towards the west of the town, passing through some of the northern streets where middle school children were still milling around.

 

It didn't take long for the pair to reach the square and Castiel found it hard to believe that such a place could be harbouring a sadistic god, but he knew better and knew that even if it may look calm on the surface, all manner of gruesome truths could live underneath.

 

The sky was beginning to cloud over again bringing with it a promise of rain later. The air was still warm, however, and the Angel wondered if it would be another thunderstorm. Castiel had a certain fondness for storms where lightning cracked open the sky – they reminded him of when the Earth was still young - and so was he by an Angel's standards – and how large storms would rumble on for days whilst covering large areas with the rain held within their clouds. Of course, no storms were ever as large as those any more but Castiel would still try and make time to watch as a hurricane would roll in from the ocean bringing with it memories of his early millennia as well as realisations of how much the planet, himself and _everything_ had changed.

 

“You okay there? You look like you're thinking about some serious stuff.” Dean asked, bringing the Seraph out of his thoughts.

 

“Hm? Oh. No, not particularly. I was simply remembering how the Earth used to be.” was the Angel's answer as they passed through the square and the western row of shops.

 

“Sounds pretty serious to me.” the hunter shrugged slightly. “So, are we talking lumps of molecules or dinosaurs, here? 'Cause, honestly, I would love to hear about the dinosaurs.”

 

Cas huffed a small laugh, no more than a quick puff of air, and felt the sides of his mouth twitch upwards slightly. “Neither. I was thinking about the storms that used to move over this planet. They would last for days and were so harsh that even we would tend to avoid flying in them.”

 

Dean whistled through his teeth as they turned onto an adjoining street to the west of the plaza. “Pretty impressive stuff if I've ever heard it.”

 

“Yes, I suppose they were. The closest I can describe it to would be the constant storm on Jupiter,” his head tilted. “I believe it is normally referred to as the 'Red Spot'. That would be an adequate likeness for intensity.”

 

“Once again, pretty impressive.” The other man was scanning the road as they walked up it. “Seems like the bar isn't even in this street,” he sighed. “Come on, let's go check the next one over.”

 

The pair backtracked slightly to reach the junction they had just turned and crossed over into the next street beyond the previous one.

 

Dean once again broke the silence but his voice was harder now, even though Castiel could tell he was trying to keep it neutral. “Say, Cas,” he started and then paused, gathering his thoughts. “Did, um, anyone bother you when you were at the church the other day?”

 

The Angel thought back to the mass that had been held. The mass itself had been fairly standard, nothing unusual about the readings or layout even if he had had to answer in English instead of Latin to any prayers. Lillian and her family had met him outside and welcomed him to the parish. Everyone had seemed to continue normally around him.

 

Then he remembered a couple who had been glaring at him and whispering throughout the service. They had been middle aged with three children, two boys and a young girl. Lillian had told him to ignore them and that they were simply ignorant and so he had done just that. They had neither approached him or done anything other than glare but this is all he could think of in response to Dean's question.

 

“There was one couple who seemed to be whispering about me and they glared in my direction a number of times but they never confronted me. I did not believe it to be important.”

 

“'Not importa-'? Cas they basically wanted to throw me out of the town or set me on fire or something! You can bet they were gonna take a crack at you when the crowds were gone, too.” Dean sounded angry, his voice hissing slightly as if he were fighting to keep it down and not to shout.

 

The Angel didn't understand and he said as much to which the other man sighed sharply and ran a hand through his hair. “They were homophobic douchebags – saying you shouldn't have been in the church 'cause it was sacred or something and _this_ ,” he gestured between them. “Isn't 'holy' or some crap.”

 

Cas' eyes narrowed his eyes, his chest tightening as anger began to sizzle in his veins. Someone had targeted _his_ Charge, _his_ hunter, due to their twisted beliefs of love. “God is indifferent to sexual orientation.” he managed to grit out.

 

“Yeah, well, you try telling it to these two. They were set to go freaking juggernaut on my ass or something.” The elder Winchester looked as if he was seething about their actions which the Angel found comforting to know his own frustration was shared. After a few moments of steady walking and silence, Dean spoke again, seemingly calmer. “I mean, I know you can handle yourself, dude, but some people are just frikkin' spiteful and I'd like to introduce them to my sawed off some time.”

 

Cas had acknowledged before that Dean was protective over those he thought of as family/friends – there was not much difference in Dean's eyes – but knowing he was included made his ears grow warm. However, he did not understand how 'meeting' an inanimate object would help.

 

When he said as much to Dean about his gun, a quick bark of laughter left the hunter. “It's just an expression, Cas. It basically means I'd like to shoot 'em.” he told the blue-eyed man, grinning slightly.

 

“Although they are wrong, I don't believe killing them is a solution, Dean.” Cas frowned.

 

“I wouldn't _kill_ them, just maim them a little.” the hunter replied, still grinning.

 

“I still do not believe how it would solve the problem.”

 

“You're such a stickler for details, Cas.” Dean sighed with faux exasperation and shaking his head slightly. He looked away from the other man and back down the road and perked up when he saw the unlit sign for the bar. “Here we go.”

 

The building itself was relatively large, compared to the other building around it (but that wasn't saying much), and caught between what appeared to be a boarded up takeaway and a DIY store which held a small 'open' sign in the window. The sign proclaimed the bar's name in flaking yellow pain covered in neon that hadn't been turned on yet. Another 'open' sign was in the window but, from what the Angel could see, not many people were visiting the establishment yet. Whether this was because it was during the week or too early for the main drinking ground, he didn't know.

 

“Well, there we go. Probably the only bar in this town of freaking Mormons but at least we know where it is.” Dean looked up to the sky then. “Come on, we'd better get back to the car; it looks like it's going to rain.” An opportune raindrop decided then to fall into Dean's eye and he cursed, rubbing his right eye. “Scratch that, it is raining. Let's go 'cause I don't want a repeat of earlier.”

 

By the time the pair got back to the Impala, what had started as just a few droplets had turned into another downpour and both had been soaked through as they ran the last few streets to the car. Dean fumbled slightly with the keys before unlocking the car and they both got in quickly. They both sat in silence for a moment before Dean started to laugh quietly.

 

Castiel gave him an odd look which just made Dean laugh harder. “Dean, I don't understand what is so funny.” The Angel was fighting not to shiver – the rain had been cold and Cas', now drenched, clothes were chilling him to the bone.

 

“I don't know, man, it's just... Just seems funny, I guess.”

 

Cas went to reply that he hadn't found it funny earlier when it had rained but couldn't form a sentence around his chattering teeth – his arms had also unconsciously wrapped around his chest as he tried to keep warm.

 

Glancing over towards Cas again, Dean seemed to realise why he wasn't responding and his eyes widened. “Oh, shit! Uh, erm, here.” He started pulling off his jacket before placing it over the Angel's shoulders before starting the car and turning the dials that Castiel had learnt controlled the temperature of the car.

 

“T- thank you.” he managed to get out as Dean began driving away. Dean's jacket was also wet but it did add another layer of warmth to the Seraph's body. The worst thing about having his powers bound, Castiel had decided, was that he always felt cold.

 

“Don't thank me just yet; you could still get hypothermia.”

 

The drive back to the house took less time than the drive to the library and Castiel suspected Dean was breaking a few speed limits. When the car pulled up outside of their temporary residence, the rain had still not let up and thunder was, once again, rolling across the sky on the back of blinding flashes.

 

“Sit down.” Dean practically ordered the Angel, nudging him towards the living room before going upstairs. Castiel was conscious of the small puddle forming around his sodden shoes but remained seated on the couch, clutching the coat covering him. Dean came back with a towel, a jumper and multiple blankets, all of which he draped over the back of the couch before gesturing to Cas.

 

“'Kay, come one, you're gonna have to get out of those soaking clothes.” he took both of the coats off and went out of Cas' vision with them while the Angel unzipped his hoodie before taking that off as well. His T-shirt had survived so he pulled on the sweater as Dean walked back in and then wrapped all three of the blankets around himself and sitting again.

 

“You still cold or are you okay?” the hunter asked, picking up the towel and looking over the arm of the sofa at him.

 

“I believe I will be fine.”

 

Dean nodded and then passed Cas the towel. “Towel your hair, I'll make coffee.”

 

~x~x~x~

 

Dean flicked on the coffee machine and added water into the filter at the top. He didn't care what Sam said; his 'mother hen mode' was entirely justified and wasn't at all 'fussy' or 'over bearing'.

 

Glancing at the clock, Dean wondered how they were going to kill the three and a half hours they had until they needed to meet Sam. He shrugged off his coat and placed it on the back of a chair as the coffee machine gurgled.

 

Dean's clothes were also damp and starting to stick to his skin while his hair seemed to be trying to flatten itself to his head as much as possible. He glared at the rain outside the window before snagging a can of soup from the cupboard, pouring it into a saucepan and setting it over the stove to heat up. Sam had always wanted chicken soup when he was ill/upset so the elder brother hoped that Angels liked soup too.

 

The coffee machine _dinged_ just as the soup came to the bowl. Pouring both into their respective mug and bowl (with a spoon), the hunter passed them to Cas who was still huddled beneath the blankets but had, at least, stopped shivering.

 

“Eat up.” Castiel seemed slightly surprised at the bowl being offered to him while the coffee was placed on the end table.

 

“Thank you, Dean.” The Angel's blue eyes moved from the bowl to Dean's own eyes as he accepted it. As he settled it in his lap he then blinked, his brow creasing in confusion. “Are you not going to eat.”

 

Dean shook his head. “Nah, I'll eat later or something. I'm gonna get out of these clothes and take a nap.” Once again, any excuse for more than four hours was reason enough for Dean. “Now eat, it'll help you warm up.”

 

One quick shower and change of clothes later, Dean was about to sit in the arm chair opposite the window when Castiel looked over towards him from where he had been watching some news channel.

 

“Do you wish to lie here, Dean? I can move.”

 

“I'll be good over here and, besides, you look comfy.” the hunter grinned to which the Angel made a small humming noise that the other man took as a yes.

 

Just as Dean's eyes closed, his arms crossing over his chest and his feet propped up on the coffee table, he heard a hissing sound come from towards the sofa. His left eye cracked open and found Castiel almost glaring at a spoonful of soup. “Ermm... Something wrong there, Cas?”

 

“The soup is too hot to eat and it burnt my mouth.” Dean was pretty sure that if Angels could sulk, that is exactly what it would look and sound like.

 

“Eat the soup at the edge of the bowl, it'll be cooler.” As Dean's eyes closed this time, there was no sound to indicate any further damage to the Angel and his (totally _not_ kissable) mouth but only a slight _clink_ as the spoon came into contact with the edge of the bowl.

 

To Dean, it felt like it had been five seconds - but it had actually been just under three hours – since he had closed his eyes when Castiel was shaking his shoulder lightly to wake him.

 

“Dean, I believe you will have to wake up now if we do not wish to be late.” The hunter heard the words before his brain fully woke up so it took him a few seconds of thinking (and staring into Cas' eyes, maybe) for him to comprehend.

 

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, um... Yeah.” Dean stood up, still blinking sleep from his eyes. He was about to remind Cas about 'personal space' – squashing the voice in his head that told him to pull the Angel closer – when he seemed to remember himself and moved away, mumbling something that sounded like 'sorry'.

 

Stretching resulted in Dean waking up some more - and getting the warm feeling you can only get from your bones popping – whilst Castiel folded up the blankets he had been wearing like an exoskeleton and placing them where he had been sitting. The hunter noticed the sky was already going a pale purple which grew darker above the houses across the road and that the TV had been turned off.

 

He was absently gazing at the opposite houses when he remembered what Daniel had told him earlier that day – it had completely skipped his mind until now.

 

“Hey, Cas?” he started.

 

“Yes, Dean?” came the response from the kitchen where he was, presumably, placing his mug and bowl in the sink.

 

“I think we've been invited to a party without much say about it.”

 

The Angel's head appeared from around the door frame, eyes narrowed. “By whom?”

 

“Um, Josh and... What was her name...?”

 

“Cathy?” Castiel supplied and Dean clicked his fingers.

 

“Yeah, that was it! Apparently it's his birthday on Friday and we're invited to go over or something, I don't know. Anyway, it sounds like Daniel and Rachel'll be there and that's when Molech is supposed to be going after them; I thought if we could keep an eye on them then we could catch this guy.” he rubbed his neck absently. “Otherwise... It's us next.”

 

Cas' head tilted as he came around the door frame. “Although that would give us an ideal opportunity to confront Molech, we need to find him before he takes the next couple: save as many people as possible.”

 

Dean knew from the Angel's tone that he was thinking about the other day and how they'd ended up against a wall with Castiel, once again, trying to convince the hunter of his self worth. An uphill battle, anyone Dean knew could tell you that.

 

A few beats passed in silence passed until Dean remembered that they did actually have to be somewhere relatively soon and so couldn't just stand around staring at each other. Dammit! His life was turning into a frigging rom-com or something. If the hunter didn't know better, he'd say Gabriel had something to do with all these chick flick-worthy moments that kept cropping up like damn roaches.

 

Dean stretched his arms up again and turned away. “So, what time even is it?”

 

“Around twenty minutes to eight.” came the low answer from somewhere behind him.

 

“We'd better get going, you can bet Sam'll be there early so he can complain if we're not there dead on eight.” Dean shook his head lightly as he went to pull on his shoes. They had, luckily, survived the double drenching they'd had to experience and didn't even squelch when the hunter pulled them on.

 

~x~x~x~

 

As it would turn out, Dean was right and Sam was already waiting for them by the time they turned up.

 

Sam looked up from where he sat in one of the bar's booths as the door opened and saw the two coming towards him. It was still a little disorientating to see Castiel in jeans and a jacket but the younger Winchester was sure the trenchcoat would have stood out a little here, and not in the good way.

 

 _Faithfully_ by _Journey_ was playing from some corner of the bar and Sam found himself humming along as the song came towards its end as his brother along with his (even if he didn't realise it) Angel sat down across from him, backs to the door.

 

They were sitting next to each other so that meant Sam's night should go to plan – excellent.

 

The other two may have just shown up to discuss the case but Sam was there with a plan – Operation: My Brother Is An Idiot Who Loves His Angel Who Loves Him Back And Just Doesn't Know It. It was a working title.

 

Sam had gone over the case from every angle he could think of and had been monitoring for Molech all day – basically nothing.

 

So, the first step of the plan was to relay everything he knew which wouldn't take long but he'd allowed time for Dean's interruptions and to make it seem natural, he was going to wait around an hour and a half.

 

Second stage; he had set an alarm on his phone at around that point but the notification sound was the same as his ring tone - so he was essentially faking a call to get out of the love birds' proximity.

 

Step three was more of an all around kind of thing and involved both Dean and Cas getting, at least, tipsy. Dean would be harder to get drunk because his resistance to alcohol was all but absolute but, then again, Sam's plan was also basically hinging on his theory that in Cas' bound state, his angelic immunity to alcohol would also be bound and, therefore, he would be looser after a couple of beers.

 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sam wondered if he was going to go to Hell (again) for planning on A) getting an Angel drunk and B) setting said Angel up with his brother for some weird, cross-species, sort-of-gay relationship.

 

Sam knew that if his brother ever found out about any of this, he'd have a better chance of fighting off both Lucifer and Michael with only a tooth pick than escaping Dean and the ass-whooping he would undoubtedly hand out.

 

So it would just have to stay a secret between Sam and his brain.

 

“Heya, Sammy.” Dean said in greeting whilst Castiel gave the customary 'Hello, Sam.'

 

“Hey guys, you found anything other than what you told me earlier?” the question was mainly pointed towards the Angel who had given him some theories on where the god could be.

 

“All work and no play, Sam.” Dean muttered and then. “Scooch, I'm gonna get a drink. Want one?” he asked as he moved passed Cas to get out of the booth.

 

The Angel nodded slightly “Yes, please.” and then Dean was swaggering off to the bar leaving Sam and Cas alone to actually get some work done. “We went to the library earlier and discovered three possible locations except one seems more likely than the others.”

 

There was a pause in which Sam expected Cas to carry on but when he went to contently staring around the bar, the younger brother coughed and brought the Angel's attention back to the conversation. “And they were...?”

 

“The large area beneath the town hall, a disused warehouse and an abandoned stretch of the sewers. I deemed the sewers the most likely location as it is furthest away from people but the entrances have been filled in with concrete so that poses the question of how he is getting around. However, with both the town hall and warehouse somebody would have seen something and there appear to be no odd reports concerning either of those areas.” By the time Castiel had finished, Dean still hadn't returned.

 

Sam glanced over to the bar to see if his brother was still there talking to the bartender. A rather slim woman with bleached blonde hair that fell to around her chest that her top wasn't doing a very good job of covering up. From past experiences, the younger Winchester couldn't help but to mentally make a note that she wasn't her brothers type even if Dean wasn't going to try anything. Well, he had better _not_ try anything because their cover would be blown and the fact that it happened with Castiel so close, it would just be another wedge placed between them.

 

Sam turned back to say that Dean wouldn't do anything to jeopardise the case but found that Castiel had followed his line of sight. The Seraph was glaring towards the bar with a force that was bordering on smite-worthy. “It's okay, Cas. He won't blow your cover, he's not a complete idiot.”

 

The Angel seemed to come back to himself and turned to face Sam, taking a deep breath. The hunter vaguely wondered what kind of state the building would be in if Castiel hadn't had his powers bound. _Not something good_ , Sam reasoned. “I know, Dean is a lot smarter than he often gives himself credit for. It is just... Unsettling, given the current arrangement.”

 

 _Current arrangement, my ass_ , Sam thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Last time Dean had hooked up while Cas was in the vicinity there had just happened to have been a power outage in the localised area and the Angel – who _still_ denies causing it – not showing up for around three weeks. Heavenly duties aside, Sam was pretty sure it was due to sulking and pining.

 

Before Sam could say anything else, Dean was back and sitting on the opposite bench and placing three beers on the table. “Did I miss the boring stuff?” he asked, bringing his own glass up to his lips, his eyebrows arching slightly.

 

Dean didn't notice.

Cas didn't seem to notice.

Sam definitely noticed. Cas was leaning in towards Dean who was leaning back and it was so sickeningly cutsie and sweet that it would probably have even made Gabriel feel sick. And that'd be saying something.

 

Once again resisting rolling his eyes, Sam just decided to level Dean with a bitchy look. “Cas was just telling me what you found at the library.” he said around the rim of his own beer before taking a sip.

 

Castiel gave his own drink a slightly apprehensive glance before taking a long drink. He pulled a slight face as he set it back down but it was smoothed over as soon as it appeared. “Did you manage to locate anything further, Sam?”

 

“Only that Malik was a no-show at where he works today but that's not really any kind of surprise. I think he knows that we're after him. I just hope that he hasn't skipped town yet.” The last sentence was more of a sigh but it got the younger hunter's opinion across.

 

“I was thinking the same thing – if he's left, it could take us ages to find him again.” Dean was already halfway through his beer and Castiel was slowly getting through his own.

 

“So, do you know who the next couple to be targeted is?” inquired Sam as he checked the time on his phone. Another hour or so and he'll just have to hope his plan will carry itself through.

 

“Yes, and we also have a way to be in contact with them on the night, hopefully.” Castiel was blinking more frequently and his glass was almost empty. Sam just hoped he still didn't have his ability to drink an entire liquor store and, somehow, still remember everything the next day, even if he had had a hangover.

 

Sam simply raised his eyebrows in question whilst sipping his own drink.

 

“Yeah, Rachel and Daniel are gonna be at some... _Thing_ that we've been invited along too as well on Friday. If we can keep them there then they should be safe and if Molech comes after them while we're there, then we'll take him down there. Win win.” The elder brother was already tilting his glass in his hands like he does just before he went to get another.

 

“Another party? It's all right for some.” Sam quipped.

 

“Not my fault we're so loveable, Sammy.” Dean smirked whilst nudging Cas' arm. “Right, Cas?” He looked to the Angel for confirmation of his statement.

 

“Hmm? Oh, yes. Yes.” The elder hunter seemed to have woken Cas from some dream-like state so he just blinked blearily at both of the Winchesters.

 

Sam kept his smirk to himself. This was going to be too easy.

 

~x~x~x~

 

By nine o'clock, Sam was _sure_ his plan was working.

 

Dean was getting something like the fifth round and the Angel had only just managed to stop his hiccuping – his powers had been suppressed and the alcohol was affecting him more because of it.

 

Cas had been half way through his second beer when he had realised and had managed to get out a gruff 'I believe the alcohol is influencing me more than normal', whilst glaring at the glass as if it had offended him, to which Sam had smiled and Dean had actually laughed, sounding lighter than Sam had heard him in years.

 

However, while Dean was at the bar, Sam was not expecting the Angel to suddenly be interested in starting up a conversation.

 

“Sam,” he started somewhat hesitantly. “May I ask you a question?”

 

“Uh, sure. Go ahead.”

 

“What is meant by the term... 'Eye-fucking'?” Cas' eyes were narrowed as he looked into the middle distance as if he wasn't sure he was remembering something correctly.

 

If Sam had been drinking something, he probably would have either choked or spat it back out. What in the _Hell_?!??!! “Er... What, Cas?”

 

The Seraph's eyes suddenly locked on to the younger Winchester's, still confused. “Before I came to help on the case, I asked Balthazar if he could handle everything to which he respa... _Responded_ that he could maintain control and that I was 'overdue for an eye-fucking session with Dean' and I don't understand what he meant.”

 

So, Balthazar knew what was up too, huh? Well, Sam wasn't exactly surprised but how do you explain it to a celestial being? “Uhh... I guess it's when you stare at someone for a long time and they stare back without turning away. I mean, you and Dean do stare at each other a lot...”

 

“Why is that the term used, though? Surely it is impossible for that part of human anatomy to be able to reproduce.”

 

The awkward coming from Sam was almost palpable but, thankfully, Dean chose that moment to slide back onto his seat with another round. Almost as soon as Dean sat down, Cas' stare turned to him and the younger brother wanted to say 'Exhibit A' but he held his tongue, they'd get there eventually.

 

Another twenty or so minutes drifted by in idle chatter that always accompanies drinking but at exactly thirty two minutes past nine, Sam's phone went off so he pulled it from his pocket and 'answered' it.

 

After faking a half of a conversation he turned back to his brother and Cas who were both looking at him with expressions of curiosity.

 

“That was Gemma, something's apparently wrong with one of the panels. I was the last one on that station so I'm gonna go see if it's something I did.” Sam tried to act as normally as possible but when the Angel's head tilted he just hoped he couldn't still read his mind or anything.

 

“You do realise you're not actually meant to be dedicated to them or anything, right?” Dean's eyebrows seemed to be trying to join with his hairline.

 

“Whatever, I'm a nice person, unlike you, so I'm gonna go. Ring me if you find anything else.” and he was off, pulling on his jacket in a fake display of hurriedness, smirking slightly as he went.

 

~x~x~x~

 

There was something off about how Sam left, Dean could just tell.

 

He turned back to where he and Castiel now sat alone to find the Angel running a finger around the edge of his beer glass.

 

“Something up, Cas?” Because if Dean didn't know better, that was a slightly hunched posture that people – or Angels – only get when thinking over something serious.

 

“Yes... I don't like being bound, Dean.” he sounded miserable.

 

“I can imagine; celestial soup of destruction now trapped relatively permanently in a meat suit, must be uncomfortable.” How big had Castiel said he was that one time? Chrysler building, wasn't it? _Damn_ , Dean thought. _Must be_ _ **really**_ _uncomfortable._

 

The Angel hummed, his finger still circling the rim of his glass. “The most annoying thing is that I cannot feel my wings. I can't move them or stretch them and I miss them.”

 

The elder Winchester would be lying if he said he had never thought about Cas' wings. From that night in the barn when he had seen their shadows, Dean had been lost to wondering what Angel feathers would feel like running through his fingers.

 

Before Dean could ask about them, Castiel was talking again. “Of course, in my true form they are not wings as you would normally imagine them.” He stopped for a moment to drink from his glass. “Like my natural form, they are waves of light and electromagnetic frequencies that stretch through every layer of reality.” The hunter was lost in how Castiel spoke about his wings. The Angel was gazing into nothingness across the table while his voice was wistful. “They are beyond human comprehension, made from sounds and colours scientists can only dream of discovering. They can glide through matter and not even cause a ripple but at the same time, they could easily cut into this reality and destroy entire star systems. They are... Wavelengths of destruction that spread over galaxies and some _god_ ,” the Angel spat the word, a snarl forming around his mouth. “Believes that he can keep them from me.”

 

Dean was left staring again as the Seraph finished speaking. Sometimes he forgot that Castiel wasn't the person he saw in front of him. Castiel was an _Angel_ – something that could level a city in a matter of minutes if he wanted to. Hadn't Zachariah said in the Beautiful Room that humanity wasn't the first race they had destroyed or something?

 

Honestly, it scared Dean a little when he thought about it.

 

Of course, that just meant he covered it up with a joke. “You goin' all poetic on me there, Cas?”

 

Castiel was looking at him then. “You make light of situations that distress you, Dean. I wonder what would have happened if you had been born on the day you were supposed to.”

 

The other man was just wondering if Cas was actually drunk and babbling now because _what_? “Yeah, Cas, you're going to have to make some more sense there, buddy.”

 

“You were born on a Wednesday, a child supposedly full of woe but had you been born the day after, you possibly would have had more trials to face but your guilt could be less.” Cas' drink lay forgotten on the table as he stared at Dean as if trying to memorise every feature.

 

“Wha-”

 

“All rhymes have origins, Dean, and the one portraying children according to when they were born is surprisingly accurate. Wednesday means you were born under Raphael's protection, perhaps that is why you suffer so much.”

 

The Angel was making less and less sense as he kept talking – either Dean had drunk more than he had thought or Cas _was_ drunk.

 

“Allowing you to suffer so much is horrible, if I had allowed that I'd feel like a fig.” he said and then, honest to God, Dean heard the Angel _chuckle_. At seeing Dean's confused look he muttered “I suppose it's funnier in Enochian...”

 

Okay, if Castiel was making jokes, Dean was prepared to call it quitting time. “That's enough for you, I think. Come on, let's go back to the house.” The hunter quickly paid the tab and tip over at the bar before helping Cas out to the Impala, the Angel's arm thrown around his shoulders.

 

As he was helping Cas into the passenger side, he was once again face to face with that unnerving gaze. “Why couldn't you have been on Thursday, Dean?” the Angel asked, head tilting as he studied the hunter for the hundredth time that night. “Then you truly would be my Charge. You'd be _mine_.” Just as soon as Castiel began asking questions, he stopped and was leaning his head back in the seat.

 

Dean doubted Castiel would be able to remember much the next day but he still wondered, as he slid in behind the wheel, what the big deal with Thursday was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does the fluff make everything okay?
> 
> so this is now cross-posting on both FF.net and LiveJournal where my username is exactly the same thing (I'm dreading splitting this thing to fit to those sights, oh God...).  
> my tumblr is bakura-reads-yaoi, come say hi!
> 
> inspiration for the descriptions of Cas' wings are from this beautiful piece of art (used by request): deviantart.com/art/Colors-That-Don-t-Exist-446048031
> 
> as per usual, thank you to my brilliant beta, infinitejellybean, for actually getting me to work on this and YOU GUYS because you can always brighten my day!!
> 
> MANY MANY HUGS FOR ALL OF YOU!!  
> （=´∇｀=）
> 
> [[if you don't hear from me after tomorrow, please assume that I am dead because my results were terrible!  
> and, oh yeah, I'm posting on Misha's birthday... I doubt he's reading this but ah well, HAPPY BIRTHDAY MISHA!!]]


	13. Dancing With The Finish Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A talk with Hannah reveals yet more disturbing news about Springdale Fields.

_Pain._

 

That's what Cas woke up to.

 

He tried to blink his eyes open but everything was too bright and too much all at once. It felt as if someone were stabbing at his eyes with a blade. Sitting up was a fruitless effort as a relentless throbbing made itself known that reverberated around his head, putting the Angel's teeth on edge.

 

Trying again, the Seraph squinted his eyes open to peer at where he lay. To his relief, he was in the bedroom of the house he had been sharing with Dean. However, he did not remember getting there. In fact, his memory was not entirely clear for most of the night before and parts just seemed to blur together in a medley of light and sound.

 

The room was almost exactly as it had been every day since arriving in the relatively small town. The window was to the left of the bed with sun filtering through the thin, white curtains while the small, wooden dresser stood beneath it. Opposite the bed and slightly to the left was the door to the adjoining bathroom while the wooden wardrobe – that matched the dresser – stood on the wall to the right of the bed with the door leading to the landing on the left of it. The room was a mixture of creams and whites as well as muted yellows and oranges: Castiel supposed it was meant to look soothing or calm but, in reality, he simply found it boring.

 

As for what was different, there was a glass of water with a small, round pill placed next to the glass on the end table to Cas' left. The Angel could only assume Dean had left them for him. He vaguely recognised the pill as being the same as ones Dean offered him last time he had become intoxicated.

 

Despite having his eyes open, with lessening protest from them, sitting up still seemed like too great of a movement. Besides, the bed was comfortable and the covers were pulled up to around his neck so he could just about bury his chin into the covers if he had wanted to.

 

 _Seeing what a hangover is like from afar and experiencing it first-hand are worlds apart_ , the Angel thought dully. He was also fairly sure his one other experience of being hungover had not been this bad. At least his memory had been intact that time.

 

Cas looked to the alarm clock set just behind the glass of water and blinked a few times to brings the numbers into focus. The Seraph started slightly when he saw the time; he had slept until just past noon. Dean had commented on him being a 'late riser' and 'not a morning person' but this was even later than what had become normal.

 

Setting his jaw, Castiel sat up and propped himself up with his arms next to him as he waited for the world to stop spinning. When the feeling of nausea had receded from the back of his throat, Cas reached to the bedside table and swallowed the small tablet along with half the glass of water.

 

Standing up was, yet another, difficult task as the Seraph's legs felt more like dead weight than anything else. Shivering slightly as his bare feet touched the floor, he noticed that he had been sleeping in his T-shirt and boxer shorts from the day before and that his jeans, jumper and jacket had been folded and placed on top of the dresser underneath the window.

 

He leaned against the end table for a bit of support before pulling the comforter from off the bed and holding it round his shoulders to try and keep, at least partially, warm. A small, spiteful part of Cas' mind spoke up with a whispered _'These blankets don't compare to Dean's warmth'_ but the Angel ignored it, no point in indulging fantasies of things he can't have.

 

Castiel slowly padded downstairs, leaning on the banister to steady himself as he went whilst each footstep sounded too loud. A slight _click click clack_ could be heard from the living room and when Cas went in to see what it was, he found Dean sitting on the sofa with the laptop open. Whether Dean heard his entrance or if he sensed that someone was behind him, Castiel didn't know but still, the Hunter turned around and a grin broke out on his face when he saw the Angel.

 

“Mornin' Cas, how're you doing?” The Seraph knew it was meant to bright and friendly but each word just sent more stabs through his head.

 

“Not so loud, Dean.” Cas scowled, voice barely above a gruff mutter, and sat down on the other end of the couch.

 

However, this just seemed to make the hunter's grin wider. “A little hungover, are we there, Cas?” he asked but had, thankfully, lowered his voice to a less brain-destroying decibel.

 

The Angel nodded but then regretted moving his head. “Yes, I believe so.”

 

A quiet snicker left Dean as he set the laptop down on the coffee table and went through to the kitchen. The Angel contemplated asking what he was doing but reasoned that, to be heard, he would have to lift his voice to a mind-shattering level.

 

The Angel did not have to wonder for long as Dean soon returned with a plate and a glass filled with an orange liquid that seemed too dark to be orange juice. The other man passed the plate with a fork and placed the glass on the coffee table. “Eat up.”

 

Cas accepted the plate of bacon and eggs and, suddenly realised just how hungry he was, began eating.

 

“I hope it's not cold, I tried to keep it warm but you slept a lot longer than what I expected.” Dean sounded amused as he began studying the laptop screen again.

 

“You did not have to go to the trouble.” Castiel told him between bites of bacon.

 

A small smile tugged at Dean's mouth. “Yeah, well...” he rubbed the back of his neck before looking over to the Seraph. “It's the best hangover cure. Winchester approved.” Dean winked and Cas couldn't help but to smile lightly.

 

Castiel took a sip of the juice and grimaced slightly at the overly sweet taste. “What is this?”

 

“Hm?” Dean looked over the top of the laptop to the glass. “Oh, it's _Gatorade_ – great for hangovers.”

 

A frown found its way onto Cas' face. “I don't believe I will be drinking again any time soon.”

 

The hunter huffed out a laugh. “Probably a good idea; you passed out in the Impala. I had to carry you inside.”

 

Castiel felt his cheeks flush as he finished off the scrambled eggs. “I'm sorry.”

 

“Nah, it's okay. Everyone's been there. Me? I woke up in a different town and my dad almost killed me, first time I got properly drunk. And, I don't know if Sam remembers but, he actually drunk dialled me when he was hammered at Stanford. I wish I could've recorded it, man. It was pretty awesome.” Dean got a slightly wistful look on his face before he blinked and focused back on the screen.

 

Castiel had finished his small breakfast/lunch and was drinking the last of the _Gatorade_ when Dean spoke again. “Say, Cas,” he started, seemingly hesitant. “Today's Thursday, right? Does, erm, does that mean anything to you?”

 

The Angel's head tilted as he gazed into the, now empty, glass. It was just another day in spring. The date did not seem like one of importance as no significant event had occurred on it whilst he had been with the Winchesters. It was a Thursday so it was _his_ day but no one he had met whilst on Earth seemed to have known that. Castiel shook his head and Dean seemed to grow more anxious over what he was saying.

 

“Well, you see, last night you were saying some stuff to do with Thursday and it just seemed kind of important.” the hunter said, looking as if he was reading what was on the screen except his eyes didn't move along the page. “In fact, just before you passed out you said something like if I'd been born on Thursday I'd be 'yours' or something.”

 

Castiel's eyes widened slightly as he realised what he had said the night before. In fact, he barely indulged that thought whilst in touch with all of his consciousness. It was now the Angel's turn to hesitate. Did he want to tell Dean all of this? Honesty was probably the best approach so the Angel decided that, yes, he would tell Dean but keep his reasons to himself. “As you know, I am a Seraph, a soldier but I am also a Guardian. However, I am not the kind of Guardian to watch over souls in Heaven but to watch over people born on a certain day on Earth.”

 

The hunter finally looked at him again, comprehension starting to dawn on his face. “So you're, what? The Angel of Thursday?”

 

Castiel nodded. “That is exactly what I am. Guardians of days were all Seraphs so that they could protect those born on their day.”

 

“So... Who's day was I born on?” Dean asked, a guarded look on his face.

 

“Raphael. Clearly, he did not exercise his powers to protect you.”

 

“Yeah, you said something else like that last night. Some old nursery rhyme and if I'd been on Thursday I wouldn't be as depressed or something.” The elder Winchester was back to avoiding eye contact again.

 

“Most old rhyme's have truthful origins, Dean. As for what I said, I can only assume that I meant, despite having more issues to possibly face, the guilt and hatred you burden yourself with unnecessarily would be less.” Castiel could see the vague, sickly green swirls of bitterness starting to become prominent in Dean's soul.

 

Said man huffed a laugh that contained no humour. “Yeah, like I could have any more issues in my life.”

 

The Angel resisted pointing out that this is what the poem means by _'Wednesday's child is full of woe'_ and instead stated “I suppose being born on Thursday would only really change that I would be your Guardian, not simply because I pulled you from Hell or because Heaven ordered it, it would be my duty to protect you.”

 

A shot of red started in the glow of the hunter's soul: anger. “I don't need protecting, Cas.” he bit out.

 

“Do not think of it as protection,” Castiel said, keeping his voice calm. “Think more along the lines of our bond would simply be stronger.”

 

“Oh, don't go having a chick flick moment on me, Cas.” Dean groaned but the Seraph could tell that he was trying to lighten the conversation.

 

Despite hearing the slightly amused tone to Dean's voice, Castiel still did not fully understand what a 'chick flick moment' was. “Dean, I still do not see what young poultry and films have to do with our conversations.”

 

The hunter gave him a disbelieving look. “You say you were watching humanity but, man, what were you _doing_?” he rolled his eyes before looking over again. “So, any other weird, celestial wave-y jobs you do?”

 

“I am also the Guardian Angel of November.”

 

Dean whistled between his teeth. “Wow, you were a busy bee.”

 

Cas' eyes narrowed. “I am not a bee, I am an Angel. Bees are very admirable creatures but I am not among them.”

 

This time, the hunter simply rolled his eyes. “One day, Cas, you and me'll be able to have a conversation. Don't know when, but someday.” The Angel was going to point out that they _were_ having a conversation but Dean turned the laptop screen to show him.

 

“Anyway, I've been thinking about what Sam said, about how some of the employees who worked with Malik looked like people who had gone missing in other towns like this, and I found this.” On the screen was, unmistakeably, Hannah Devonshire; the woman who had welcomed at the gates. However, her hair wasn't dark but a colour similar to Dean's whilst her skin was paler. Dean must have seen his slight surprise and nodded, turning the laptop back to himself and tapping the keys. “Yeah, I know,” he said before turning the laptop around again. “And then there's this.”

 

Castiel scanned the small passage from an online newspaper article quickly:

 

_**YOUNG WOMAN STILL MISSING AFTER HUSBAND'S BODY IS FOUND MUTILATED** _

 

_Rebecca and Philippe Lariviere went missing over a week ago from their house with no sign of a forced break-in or struggle leaving the police still seeking anyone who may have seen something to come forward._

_However, in the early hours of yesterday morning, what has now been confirmed as Mr. Lariviere's body was discovered on the banks of the river by a passer-by. Despite this morbid discovery, the questions of whether Rebecca has befallen the same fate and what has caused these events are still left unanswered._

 

The report then went into further details on the case but Castiel already understood: Molech was rebuilding his army, albeit more discreetly than when he last walked the Earth but the threat still stood.

 

“Should we go and talk to her?” the Angel asked, looking up at Dean.

 

The other man closed the laptop and nodded. “Yeah, I think it could help us. And, also, I want to know how she got past your mystical Angel sensors; you said she seemed normal, right?”

 

Cas thought back to when they had first arrived and nodded. “Yes, her soul seemed... Normal, content. There was nothing out of the ordinary.”

 

Dean rubbed a hand over his face and through his hair. “The list of weird in this town just seems to be getting longer.” he sighed before standing and stretching. “I'll ring Sam and tell him what's going on - see what the _problem_ was all about last night.”

 

The Seraph nodded and pulled the covers more tightly around him before standing and making his way upstairs to shower and dress. He figured that these could be their last days in the small town and, although he is eager to have full control of his Grace again, he will miss the small amount of domesticity he and Dean had shared.

 

~x~x~x~

 

Half an hour later, the two pulled up in front of a small, coffee shop on the east side of town. Turns out, _Hannah_ had left her number for them on their map in case they had any 'issues'.

 

Whilst Castiel had gone back upstairs, Dean had called Sam and told him what they were planning. Sam had said that Malik was still a no-show on any cameras throughout the town which made Dean clench his jaw. It was starting to look more and more likely that Molech had left the town but both hunters agreed that it would be unwise to leave without making sure.

 

After this, the elder brother had phoned _Hannah_ if there was any way they could meet in person as they 'had some questions about the town' and she had told them about the small shop and asked them to meet her there at half past one.

 

On entering the small store, Dean felt as if he had simply walked into a cup of coffee; it was warm and stuffy in the enclosed space with almost every surface being covered in creams or browns. Through the hate, the hunter could smell the overly pungent fragrance of the bitter drinks being served.

 

There was a queue of only three people to the left of the door while only two of the six tables were occupied. Glancing around, Dean noticed the supposed estate agent sitting at the table in the far corner, waving for them to go over. The hunter nudged Cas and nodded to where the young woman was sitting and they both went to sit with her.

 

“Hey, guys!” she grinned as if they were old friends and, before either of the pair could protest, wrapped each of them in a crushing hug. “Settling in okay?” she asked, her bright pink lips stretching into a smile as she settled back into her seat. Her dark hair was tied in a pony tail over her right shoulder with a few fly-away strands remained framing her face.

 

Dean put on his most charming smile before settling into a chair across from her with Cas on his right. “Everything's perfect, just like you said. It's so different from where we were before, though. Know what I mean?”

 

 _Hannah_ laughed around the edge of her cup. “Oh, yes. It is very different here but you'll be happy once you settle in, I'm sure.” She swallowed some of the coffee before speaking again. “I know I am.”

 

“I don't mean to intrude,” Cas spoke up from beside him. “But I was wondering from whereabouts you moved to here from.” The hunter resisted the urge to smile; really, it was a weird thing to be proud about but Cas' subtlety skills had greatly improved during investigations and it was Dean who had taught him, mostly.

 

Another laugh and Dean's teeth were put on edge. Of course, it was her job to sell this town as paradise, but she still seemed like a mindless robot.

 

“Oh, no, it's no problem, hun. I used to live up north with-” her smile suddenly dropped and her eyes went wide. If her coffee cup hadn't been placed on the table, it looked like she would have dropped it. “I- I lived with... A friend. He-” she cut herself off again and a hand shot to her head while her eyes screwed shut as if in pain. “Ahh, I'm sorry. I suddenly don't feel too well. Ca- agh, can we continue this some other time?” she managed to grit out, already rising from her seat.

 

Dean made to stand up and help but _Hannah_ made a dismissive hand gesture until he sat down again. “Yeah, um, we'll meet again whenever.”

 

The young woman nodded before grabbing her bag and coffee and then leaving in a rush.

 

Dean and Cas shared a look before both standing and leaving the small store, the hunter breathing a little more freely once out of the cramped and stale shop.

 

“Well, I think I've found a contender for the title of 'Weirdest Thing In Town'. Didn't I tell you she was weird?” Dean remarked, turning to the Angel who was looking off down the street in the direction the woman had left, a small frown etched onto his face.

 

Cas hummed but didn't say anything or go to move but remained like a statue in a sweater and a (far too large) hoodie.

 

After a few more moments of Cas not moving, Dean placed his hand on the other man' shoulder. “Dude, are you okay?”

 

The Seraph now turned his bright gaze on Dean and he suddenly realised exactly how close they were. If Dean leaned forward _just_ a little bit, he could- Oh, whoa, no! No, no, no, no, no, no, _no_. He is stopping that train of thought _right_ _ **there!**_ He's taking it off the tracks, emptying the carriages and trading it in as scrap metal.

 

The hunter shifted slightly to move away and put a little more distance between himself and Cas; don't want another train using those _abandoned_ tracks, after all. Dean also raised an eyebrow, prompting the Angel to answer.

 

“I am fine but- Her soul was... Pale. I could see it but not sense it like when I am not bound and it was as if it were transparent or hollow. Unless I can check properly, then I can only offer you a theory and you will not like it.” Castiel levelled the hunter with a steady gaze.

 

Dean swallowed before speaking again. “Well, that's the best we've got right now. What is it?”

 

“She's soulless.” the Angel said simply and something cold settled in Dean's gut.

 

This was bad. Hell, bad didn't even cover it. If Molech was building up his soulless army, or whatever Cas had said, again then who knew how many people in this town were under his control with no care for any kind of consequences.

 

The hunter ran a hand roughly over his jaw. “This is just... Fan-flipping-tastic. Are you thinking he's got his whole army here as a sort of Trojan Horse thing?”

 

Castiel shook his head whilst biting his lip slightly. “I do not know. However, if it is anything like last time then...” The Angel's gaze found Dean's again: blue eyes conveying determination but also covering up fear. “We _need_ to stop him _now_ , Dean.”

 

~x~x~x~

 

Cas could tell that Dean was getting impatient with the hunt. His hands couldn't keep still and, more than once, the Angel saw him realise that he was tapping out random beats on his thigh, steering wheel or the keyboard and stop by shaking his hand, as if ridding himself of the adrenalin-induced habit.

 

After their talk with Hannah/Rebecca, they had returned to their temporary home for lack of any other leads to look into. Castiel didn't like being idle any more than Dean did but given that they didn't know where the god currently was or who else he had corrupted with Castiel studying each person in the town closely until he could see beneath their skin, the pair had decided it best to try and find out how many others had been 'recruited' from across the country.

 

The Seraph was sitting at the opposite end of the sofa from where Dean was looking into similar disappearances, with his eyes closed whilst - what Dean would call – meditating; trying to remember everything he could about how the Host had fought him.

 

Anael's Garrison, himself included, had been part of the clean-up and restoration effort. The shells of people that had been bound to Molech had all collapsed, brain dead, when the god had been taken off of Earth's plane of existence. They had had to destroy the bodies and any followers of Molech's who had not been bound to him; although they were few and far between, it meant that Carthage had to be destroyed as, among other things, had worshipped Molech. A few choice words to the Romans and suddenly, yes, destroying the _entire_ city instead of just pillaging it seemed like a very good idea.

 

Castiel was still sorting through his memories for any other useful information was the _snap_ of the laptop closing brought him out of his trance-like state. He looked over to find Dean leaning back heavily against the sofa, eyes closed and rubbing his hand over his jaw. When he opened his eyes again and noticed Cas watching him, he shrugged as well as he could whilst half-lying over the back of the couch.

 

“I can't look at any other missing peoples reports or descriptions of how they found bodies. I actually can't.” The hunter's face looked drawn and tired, as if reading the reports of missing couples and family members had physically aged him.

 

The Angel hmm'd , nodding his head slightly before answering. “I cannot recall anything else that may be useful in tracking Molech – only that there will be a fair amount of damage left in his wake.”

 

Dean sighed; a weary noise that, also, seemed older than the man actually was. Castiel wanted to reach out and somehow lessen Dean's burden – something such as a hug seemed to fit the situation, if Castiel's observations had been correct – but kept himself still; Dean would not welcome his actions, no matter how platonic they may seem.

 

An uncomfortable, and some-what stuffy, silence seemed to settle between the toe; thick with unspoken words but Castiel could not tell what they were. It kept on stretching for either moments or hours, it didn't matter, but when Dean's phone began to ring, it was as if a taught line had been cut.

 

The hunter scrambled to quickly grab his phone and press it to his ear. “Yeah?” His voice came out hoarse so he tried again after clearing his throat. “Yeah, what's up?”

 

The Angel could hear a slightly crackling noise coming from the phone while a shot of bright red – still clear, despite how Cas was bound – showing that it was strong, family connection. _Sam_ , Castiel reasoned.

 

“Uh huh,” Dean nodded slightly before removing the phone from his ear and pressing a button just under the screen. “Okay, Sam, you're on speaker so go ahead.”

 

“'Kay, right.” Sam's voice sounded tinny as he spoke. “So, I've been trawling through some older CCTV and I think I've found something.” There was some rustling, a clicking that sounded like computer keys and then the younger brother was speaking again. “Right, so I remember you said that you thought our guy might be in the old sewers so I went digging to see if there were any cameras around the entrances to it.”

 

“And?” Dean prompted.

 

“Get this; it's a _loop_. There's only one camera at the northern entrance - and it's a pretty secluded place too – but I was looking at it and I realised that it's the same bit of footage looped over and over and nobody's noticed because it's pretty bad quality and just shows the door.” Sam's smile was practically evident in how he was talking.

 

The elder Winchester's laugh was more of a bark, a small grin of his own forming. “How in the _Hell_ did you spot that, Sam?”

 

“I, sort of, had to watch it through a few times.” came the mumbled answer and Dean simply barked another short laugh.

 

“So, we are to assume that this is indeed where Molech is hiding.” Castiel stated, head slightly canting to the side.

 

“I guess so, Cas.” Sam replied. “Anyway, I was thinking you two should go check it out tomorrow, see how close you can get or something. I'll try and see if I can catch anybody on the closest cameras but I don't have high hopes for it.”

 

“Sounds like a plan, Sammy. We should be done with this within a week.” Dean was grinning at his phone as if his brother could see him. “Well, with any luck, we will.”

 

The brothers then began talking about whether there could be someone stationed at the sewers at all times and that is the reason for the loop or not as well as the Angel's and Dean's encounter with Hannah.

 

As the two hunters talked, Castiel's thoughts began to drift no matter how much he tried to remain focused on the conversation. The Angel would later think that it was simply a side-effect of being bound; being more human.

 

His thoughts seemed to focus on one thing: Dean wanted this case to be over, the sooner the better, by the sounds of it.

 

Castiel knew that it was the logical thing to want: after all, they were facing something that once took on the Heavenly Host, that could crush any of them if his powers were allowed to grow. Despite this, the Angel knew that he would miss the small amount of domestic life himself and Dean had been sharing: that he won't wake up with Dean sleep-warm next to him again – it had only happened a couple of times but he already missed it.

 

The rest of the day passed in what most humans would call normal – or at least that's what Castiel thought.

 

The brothers stayed on the phone for approximately another hour talking about the hunt and what Bobby had sent over to Sam about similar cases that hadn't been on the internet. (As it would turn out, people had been disappearing from across the globe and not just America as they had first thought.)

 

Castiel slipped back into the familiar numbness of meditation – his thoughts skimming over everything he can remember, again, and only devoting more attention to something that may appear to be useful.

 

Dinner is Dean making hamburger's again from the last of the mince meat along with the fresh vegetables he had picked up at the store the day before. The conversation is minimal until the hunter asks what Egypt was like.

 

When Castiel finishes explaining – skipping descriptions of the battles; combat that takes place while he is in a vessel are among his least favourite memories – Dean pouts slightly.

 

“What, you mean you didn't go sight seeing?”

 

The Seraph narrows his eyes. “I was not there for a holiday, Dean, and you are forgetting that, when I was there, most of what you would consider 'sights'-” he formed the marks in the air around the words “- were still new and, therefore, not nearly as extraordinary as they are now.”

 

When Dean simply grinned back at the Angel, he realised why there had been a lilt to the other man's voice.

 

“You were joking, weren't you.” Cas stated.

 

When Dean nodded, Cas huffed out a sigh which, in turn, managed to pull a short laugh from Dean before he went back to finishing his meal.

 

Simply getting to spend time with Dean in a somewhat intimate setting are what Castiel thought he would miss the most.

 

~x~x~x~

 

The only light in the living room was coming from the TV and the street lamp outside, clashing shades of orange and blue-ish white falling across the pages of the book Castiel was reading, giving him ample light to read by but leaving the rest of the room in shadows. The book was an old and battered copy of _A Tale of Two Cities_ that they had brought with them to act as more of a prop to their faked life but, despite this, Cas had begun reading and had found the story intriguing: mostly because it was seeing human perceptions on what he had only seen from afar.

 

Dean had returned from his shower twenty minutes ago and was watching the end of a film, lazily spread out across the sofa, his feet almost lying in the Angel's lap. From this angle, the orange light also fell across Dean's face, making his skin appear even more tanned than normal whilst his freckles seemed darker.

 

When the hunter yawned - a half-aborted thing that Dean tried to stop but failed to – Cas decided that they should both probably sleep. After all, if everything went to plan, they would have left the town far behind by this time the next day.

 

He bid the other man goodnight before going to the bedroom and changing – only one jumper over what he had adopted as his pyjamas – then climbing under the covers; lying on his side and pulling the other pillow into his arms and holding it tightly.

 

As usual, Castiel was irritated by how his brain started to feel groggy just by laying somewhere comfortable. This thought was then followed by irritation at other necessities humans had to do that, Castiel thought, would be better labelled as hindrances.

 

Just before he fell asleep, however, the Angel thought about how he would suffer through them all if it meant that he could hold Dean in his arms instead of the pillow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is probably my least favourite chapter.  
> it feels like filler but it is (sort of) important, I guess, and it's just linking things together - I hate it.  
> I promise that the next one will be better - please forgive me.
> 
> if you are still here, however, then THANK YOU because all of you are brilliant and actually to get me off my backside and write, along with infinitejellybean - you're all awesome!  
> go have some pie or something! (ﾉﾟ▽ﾟ)ﾉ ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ
> 
> cross-posting on FF.net and LJ under the same title and username. [[LJ posting is currently on hiatus.]]  
> My tumblr is bakura-reads-yaoi – come say hi!


	14. Stripped Guardian (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An intruder gets into the house and Dean is given a warning about tonight, but not about what he might expect.

Dean opened his eyes to find himself lying on his stomach with his face smushed into one of the patterned, cream cushions while he had his arms wrapped around one of the smaller, red ones and holding it close to his chest. He raised his head from the fluffed warmth of his pillow and blinked blearily until the window came into view in front of him.

 

The sky was a pale pink with blue leaching into it over the top of the line of trees and rooftops Dean could see from where he lay on the sofa, feet furthest away from the window.

 

Stretching resulted in the blanket falling from on top of him and he hissed as the cold air attacked his skin, scrambling to pull the cover back over himself before finding something to actually wear. Cas might have been okay with wandering round in his PJs and God-knows-how-many sweaters but Dean liked to be dressed and ready for anything – 'always be prepared', another rule instilled in him by his father.

 

The elder Winchester pulled on the pair of jeans at the top of his duffel and grabbed the closest shirt that wasn't too crumpled before heading towards the stairs. A quick glance at the clock in the hall showed that it was just before nine so he had plenty of time for a shower; besides, the way Dean figured it, this would probably be their last night in the house and that meant the last day that Dean would be able to enjoy the shower's amazing water pressure.

 

Before going into the bathroom, the hunter pushed open the door to the bedroom. Castiel was still asleep; holding one of the pillows in a death-lock to his chest while the quilt and extra blankets were in various states of being thrown from the bed. As Dean backed out of the room, he hoped Cas had simply moved around in his sleeps and that the blankets weren't falling off due to nightmare-induced thrashing.

 

Half an hour later and Dean was much more awake, the sleep having been washed away by the hot water. He opened the small window to the right of the shower to let out most of the steam before pulling his shirt over his head and towelling his hair once more for good measure.

 

Stepping out of the bathroom, Dean heard a slight _thwump_ and some shuffling coming from downstairs; figuring that Cas had simply gotten up while he had been showering, Dean was about to walk down the stairs when he heard the light snoring coming from the bedroom.

 

The hunter froze.

 

For a second, he thought that maybe he had imagined one of the noises but when the snoring continued and, what sounded like, a draw closing downstairs he dropped into a stance, edging slowly towards the stairs.

 

Leaning over the banister, he could see a shadow falling in the hall from the kitchen but couldn't actually see a person, however, he could _definitely_ hear them.

 

As quietly as he could, Dean padded over towards the study that was to the left of the bathroom. Pushing open the door and a quick scan of the room showed it to be empty – save for a desk, a chair and a set of drawers – and as unused as when the duo had arrived.

 

Across the landing was the other bathroom that linked to the bedroom where the soft snoring was coming from.

 

Repeating his actions from earlier, the hunter went to the bedroom and pushed the door open. Sure enough, there was Castiel pretty much exactly as he had been earlier. Hoping that he was making the right choice (and that they weren't dealing with a shifter on top of everything else, because that would just be his luck), Dean entered the room and walked towards the bed.

 

Both windows in the room – behind the bed and to Dean's right – had the curtains drawn but light was still filtering in through the thin material. To the left of the bed, Dean stopped for a moment to appreciate how peaceful Cas looked whilst sleeping - face slack and drooling slightly onto the pillow whilst the almost-constant frown had disappeared – before steeling himself for possible some form of attack for what he was about to do.

 

Slowly, he placed his hand on the Angel's shoulder and shook him lightly, making sure that he would be in Cas' vision when he opened his eyes.

 

The reaction was instantaneous; Castiel's eyes flew open, one hand latched onto Dean's forearm whilst the other went to the hunter's forehead, two fingers extended, and his mouth opened, possibly to shout, before Dean shushed him insistently.

 

After a few moment, the Seraph seemed to realise who he was staring at and who he would have burnt out of their body by the contact on their forehead, had he not been bound. “Dean?” he asked, head tilting.

 

“ _Shhh!”_ Dean all but hissed, waving his right hand in a motion that clearly meant _'Cas, shut up!'_ and placing his left hand over the Angel's mouth, glancing towards the closed door and hoping that whatever the fuck had gotten in/broken in hadn't heard them. “You gotta be quiet, buddy.” he whispered.

 

Cas went cross-eyes looking at Dean's hand before looking back up at Dean with an evident disapproving look in his eyes. Muttering a quick apology, Dean withdrew his hand from covering Cas' mouth. Castiel licked his lips slightly before speaking and Dean couldn't help but to track the movement with his eyes. “Dean,” the Angel started. “What's going on?” Thankfully, he had also lowered his voice.

 

“There's someone in the house.”

 

~x~x~x~

 

Castiel's dream had mainly been disjointed images and a few memories, somehow flowing together despite having, in reality, been completely unconnected.

 

One of the most recurring memories that had been stalking the Angel's sleep was when himself and Uriel and been looking for Anna. It wasn't specifically looking for her or following leads but more a _feeling_ that had shot through his Grace. Castiel knew what it was but he simply did not wish to acknowledge that he had felt it.

 

And so, he ignored the recurring memories of how he had felt when Anna had placed her hand upon Dean's brand – Castiel's _mark_.

 

He ignored that he had woken up in the middle of the night the day before from a dream where he had been in Anna's place during those events.

 

Castiel was only just coming to terms with the fact that Angels _could_ feel and maybe it wasn't a bad thing, but surely feeling something so... So _human_ for your Charge was still not allowed.

 

This dream, however, was somewhat friendlier. It was a memory from many centuries ago and through a different vessel's eyes.

 

 

Castiel, Uriel, Balthazar and Raziel were heading towards south-east Italy in the 17th century in order to help further a future-saints belief. Joseph of Cupertino was having an audience with the Pope that day and the four Seraphs had been ordered to to make Joseph fly – as others had done before them – to show that he was truly blessed and a believer.

 

However, Uriel had formed an idea; they would make him levitate just as he was about to kiss the Pope's feet to show his appreciation. And Dean had never believed Cas about Uriel being the funniest Angel in the Garrison...

 

As almost always with Italy, Castiel had found, it was incredibly hot; hot enough for him to feel it despite not being fully linked to his vessel. The sky was an endless shade of blue stretching across the terracotta tiled roofs with a faint breeze kicking up the dust that lay on the stone paths.

 

The Angels were standing in place amongst the crowd – Balthazar grinning broadly, Uriel's lips twitching up and Raziel looking completely done with both of them – and prepared for the moment they had been sent to co-ordinate. Joseph was next to bow to the Pope, kneeling in front of him before-

 

Castiel awoke to the world suddenly: something was shaking his shoulder and his fist reaction was to burn it from whatever shell its Earth-bound form was. When the Angel realised who it was in his grasp he almost pulled his hands away if burned himself but it was Dean's worried expression that stopped him short. “Dean?” he asked, hilting his head while his forehead creased into a small frown.

 

“ _Shhh!”_ Dean hushed insistently, waving his right hand while his left hand came up to cover Cas' mouth. The other man glanced worriedly over his shoulder towards the door before looking back. “You gotta be quiet, buddy.” he whispered.

 

Castiel glanced down towards where Dean's hand lay over his mouth before giving the hunter a level and disapproving stare. Dean seemed to blush slightly in the dim light filtering into the room but removed his hand anyway, muttering a quick “Sorry.” while the Angel licked his lips in a natural response; he could vaguely taste something musky on his lips that could only have been left there by Dean's palm.

 

“Dean, what's going on?” the Seraph asked, lowering his voice.

 

“There's someone in the house.” Dean whispered back, once again looking over his shoulder.

 

The words woke Castiel up instantly; if someone was in the house and Dean was determined to be quiet then it would only be rational to assume that whoever the third person in the house was could only be somebody intent upon hurting them in some form.

 

“Do you have any guess as to who?” Castiel inquired, following Dean's line of sight to the door whilst also making a move to stand up.

 

Dean stood up in time with Cas as he shook his head. “Not a clue; I came out of the shower and I heard you snoring and someone moving around downstairs.”

 

The Angel cast the other man a worried glance. “One of Molech's followers?”

 

Dean grunted “Possibly.” as he pushed the door open onto the landing, placing his index finger over his lips before padding over towards the stairs. By now, Castiel could also hear the faint rustling coming from downstairs; whoever had broken in evidently didn't care about being heard. On the other hand, the Angel was strongly regretting to pull on a sweater before following Dean out – a thin T-shirt and pyjama bottoms was doing nothing to keep him warm.

 

An air of apprehension hung between both of them as they descended the stairs and Dean gestured for Castiel to scout out the living room while he would take the kitchen.

 

As Dean disappeared down the hall, the Angel stood hidden by the door from the majority of the living room but swinging it wide revealed nobody behind it or in the rest of the room. Slowly and steadily, he crept towards the arch that lead into the kitchen and dining room when he heard a shouted curse and the breaking of glass.

 

“Dean!” Castiel ran into the kitchen to find the back door ajar with the frosted glass panel smashed out of it, Dean lying a short way outside on his back with his hands covering his nose. Cas called the hunter's name again as he got outside; still on edge and looking out for what had attacked his Charge. Once again, he cursed his bound state and only hoped that he would have his power returned to him soon.

 

The green-eyed man groaned, eyes screwing shut as he tried to sit up. “'s gone, Cas.” his words slurred together and sounded mangled. Going closer, Castiel saw that blood was slipping between Dean's fingers where they were clasped over his face.

 

Forgetting their would-be-opponent for the moment, the Angel dropped to his knees beside Dean and helped him to sit up before coaxing him into moving his hands away from his injured nose. From what Castiel could see, Dean's nose wasn't broken, thankfully, but seemed to have been clipped by a blow that had mainly landed across the hunter's cheek.

 

“St'p, Cas, 'm fine.” Dean grumbled whilst Castiel held his face in his palms, tilting it to see if he was injured in some other way that he may have missed at first.

 

When the Seraph asked if any other blows had landed, Dean shook his head and began to get up. “No, dey hit me an' ran.” the hunter managed to get out, sounding rather nasal, while he tried to step the flow of blood on the bottom of his shirt, revealing a good portion of his chest as he bunched it up across his face but Castiel refused to be distracted.

 

“What about your back, I assume you were thrown through the door.” the Angel queried, glancing around at the glass that was scattered among the short grass and over the stone steps that lead up to the back door and small patio.

 

Dean reached his right hand around to grope lightly at his back and winced into his T-shirt. “Ow, okay, yeah dat's gonna be a bithch tomorr'w.” he hissed and began making his way back inside, sighing when he looked at the door.

 

When back in the house, Dean went to head towards the living room but Castiel pulled him back by his arm and pointed to the table. “No, sit; I will take care of your nose.”

 

The hunter rolled his eyes. “Cas, I can dake care o' myshel-”

 

 

Cas shot Dean a stubborn look but this simply seemed to annoy the other man even more.

 

“Sherioush'y, I can do i' myshelf! 'm n't a child or-”

 

“Dean-” Castiel began to argue back but Dean kept talking over the top of him; words muffled by his shirt and the mess of his nose.

 

“Cas, sht'p i'; 'll be fine, 've done i' myshelf before so don' wo-”

 

“Dammnit Dean, let me help!” Castiel snapped, crowding back towards the hunter. “If I can't heal you then you _will_ let me at least help you.”

 

When the hunter opened his mouth, again, in order to argue back, Castiel stared him down until the other man's mouth shut with an audible click (the Angel didn't know this, but Dean had been reminded of their confrontation over a year ago after he had considered saying 'yes' to Michael).

 

Before going to Dean's duffel to fetch the ever-present med kit, Cas gestured towards the table and he heard Dean sigh before he went and sat down.

 

Although kneeling in front of Dean at the table meant that he could easily tend to Dean's nose, it also put him in a position similar to those that his unconscious mind was so eager to present him with in his dreams.

 

“Hold still.” Castiel murmured before removing the T-shirt from over Dean's face and gestured for him to sit up straight. The Angel attempted to keep his touches light and gentle as he assessed the damage to Dean's nose; he had been correct, the hunter's nose was not broken but Dean still hissed and winced as Cas trailed his fingers across its bridge _Swelling and then bruising_ , Castiel thought but was still thankful that the damage wasn't as severe as it could have been.

 

The bleeding seemed to have stopped almost completely but the Seraph still ripped off an amount of gauze from its roll and offering it to Dean who placed it in his nostrils, flinching slightly as his nose moved.

 

Just to be safe, Castiel decided to bandage Dean's nose, despite it not being broken, to try and limit any further damage to it. “Please forgive me if this hurts.” the Angel spoke again in a hushed tone. He couldn't explain why, but the Angel felt as if this situation – being so close that he could feel Dean's breath on his cheek, being so close that he could memorise every freckle all over again if he wanted to, being so close that if he moved by an inch or two then they would be kissing – was just too intimate for his voice to be anything more than a whisper.

 

Dean hissed quietly as Castiel taped a bandage over his nose but didn't complain or wince. His eyes were tracked onto the Angel's face and Cas wanted nothing more than to make eye contact but didn't trust himself as to what he would do after looking into the eyes that he had sculpted; eyes that he had based off of green peridots and garnets.

 

“'m shorry I was bein' shtubb'rn.” Dean muttered as Cas began to pack the med kit away, the pout evident in his voice.

 

“Don't be, you never have been before.”

 

“I-” the hunter cut himself off and was smirking slightly when Cas turned back to him; his expression a cross between surprise and amusement. “Did you jush' make a joke?”

 

The Seraph allowed a small smirk of his own to slip onto his face. “Perhaps.”

 

The green-eyed man snorted and pushed the Angel's shoulder lightly. “Okay, chucklehead; 'm tryin' to be all nice and c'nshiderate 'nd shit, there'sh no need to shoot me down.”

 

Cas' smirk fell into more of a small smile that merely lifted the edges of his lips. “It really is no problem Dean; it's part of who you are, even if you should learn when to accept help that is offered.”

 

The hunter looked away as he gave a shaky nod and a grunt that didn't sound as affirmative as Castiel would have liked but it was a start.

 

As he clicked the kit closed, the traitorous voice spoke up again, whispering as the serpent had whispered to Eve; _It's part of who you are, Dean_ , it breathed. _It makes you stand your ground. It's one of the reasons why I lov-_

 

No.

Castiel had told himself that he would let those thoughts go, they had no place in his mind, especially with Dean being so close.

 

He expected to be angry with himself, the voice or even with Dean but all he felt were pangs of disappointment and heartache.

 

~x~x~x~

 

After Cas had finished patching up his nose, Dean allowed himself a few minutes of just simply teaching himself how to breathe again. His hormones seemed to have forgotten that he wasn't fifteen any more and has so decided that Cas being within a foot of his dick meant that it was a perfectly acceptable time to pop a boner.

 

Now that Dean had both his breathing and treacherous body in order, he absently scratched at the bandage over his nose and hissed when pain shot through his skull.

 

“You didn't touch your nose, did you?” Castiel asked from where he was inspecting the back door, his back to Dean.

 

“No.” the hunter huffed and the Angel simply shot him a knowing look which Dean ignored, getting up and starting to make his breakfast. “You wan' bacon, Cas?” he called over his shoulder, starting to pull things from the cupboards.

 

The prospect of breakfast pulled the Seraph away from where he was staring intently at the door and the scene that lay beyond the glass, or lack there of. “Bacon sounds good, Dean, thank you.” he said with a small smile that _totally_ didn't make Dean grin back like some love-sick idiot or something.

 

“Shay,” Dean said as he turned around to grab the bacon as well. “Aren't you cold withou' a' your norma' 'nshulation?”

 

Cas' head tilted to he right and he seemed to think about his answer, as if he didn't fully know whether he was or wasn't. “Yes, I believe I am. I think that the adrenaline allowed me to remain warm before but now I'm starting to feel the cold again.”

 

Resisting the urge to chuckle, Dean flicked at him with the spatula in his hand as he lay bacon in the pan. “Go pu' on a' your shit then, I promise I won't ea' a' the food before you ge' back.”

 

“No, hopefully not.” Castiel smirked before walking off leaving the hunter gaping after him again; since when had his Angel become so sassy.

 

Wait- No, fuck! His brain just needed to shut up.

 _Think non-sexy-Angelic thoughts, non-sexy-Angelic thoughts_ , Dean repeated to himself but it didn't really help to much.

 

Whilst the bacon was sizzling in the pan, Dean put the last of the bread in the toaster and flicked on the coffee machine, deciding he'd ask Cas if he wanted eggs when he got down. It surprised him a little how easily he had slipped into a domestic routine but, and Dean would never admit it, he liked it and almost didn't want to leave. Suburbia might make his skin crawl but it does have its perks, he reasoned.

 

The hunter went through to the living room as the breakfast cooked and checked his bag, still left at the end of the sofa. Initially, he hadn't had time to take in what had been moved by the intruder but now he saw that they had obviously caught them before they could get truly stuck in; only a few things had been disturbed on the shelves and on the coffee table. Still, Dean went through his bag and made a mental note of everything that was there compared to what should have been there.

 

By the time that he was sure that everything was there (except for his guns, Dean had decided to leave them in the Impala the other day in case anybody were to enter their house – something he was regretting now), Castiel had walked back downstairs; once again clad in sweatpants and three sweaters. Dean didn't find it endearing. Nope.

 

Smothering his stupid grin, Dean stretched as he stood back up. “Recko' you can watch the baco' a shec while I grab my gun?”

 

Cas' head tilted as he studied the hunter. “Do you think it wise to carry your fire arm, even after this morning?”

 

Dean snorted. “I think I need it eshpeshially after thish mornin', Cas.” he stated, already halfway to the door.

 

After a few minutes of rooting through the Impala's trunk (damn it, Dean was going to get around to sorting out the trunk into compartments _someday_ ) he pulled out his gun and placed it in his jeans at the base of his spine, pulling his shirt over it to hide it.

 

As Dean closed the compartment back over his equipment - effectively making his baby's trunk look like any other car's – he heard voices to his left and he stood up to see Toby and Chris walking up the street clearly in the middle of some conversation.

 

The hunter could clearly pinpoint the exact moment when Toby went from simply having spotted him to having also seen the bandage adorning his nose: his face went from a friendly smile to a look of shock/horror and then finally settling on worry.

 

“Uh, hey Dean.” Toby started as the two stopped beside him. “What, erm,” he gestured to his own nose. “Happened?”

 

“Yeah, it looks pretty bad; did you break it or something?” Chris asked, narrowing his eyes whilst peering at the bandage.

 

Dean put a grin on his face as he closed the Impala's trunk and turned to face them properly. “Nah, 't'sh just bruised. There was, uh, a shmall isshue wit' the back door that ended wit' me tryin' to force it open an', well, the glassh went shtraight through and sho did I.” he forced a small chuckle and just hoped that they'd buy it – he did, after all, have smaller cuts on his arms where the glass had cut him.

 

Chris made a 'hmm'ing noise in the back of his throat while his smaller friend nodded slightly. “Fair enough.” The three lapsed into silence for a moment before Toby spoke up again.

 

“Say, Jen said that she heard that you and Cas are going to Cathy and Josh's tonight, right?” he asked, a small grimace pulling at the corners of mouth.

 

Apprehensively, Dean nodded. “.. Yeah, why?”

 

Toby and Chris shared a look. “Well, just to warn you...”

 

“I guess you could say that...” Toby bit his lip a little.

 

“Cathy can be a bit of a cow.” Chris said quickly.

 

Toby nodded shortly. “Yeah, that sounds about right. We're just giving you a heads up so you have time to... _Prepare_.” he said, his grimace taking full shape now.

 

 

The two bid him goodbye shortly after and Dean leaned back against the impala; sighing as he thought that killing douche-y gods he could do until the cows came home but if he never had to attend another suburbs party then it'd be too damn soon.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, you all hate me; I'm so sorry!
> 
> I got drowned by work, Supernatural came back, I received hate about my ships, had a crisis of faith over my ships and then went to Asylum13 in that order and, so, this update is incredibly late!  
> if you're still here, you deserve a damn medal.
> 
> anyway, I should probably tell you this will end up being monthly updates, but with no definite date of updating. expect towards the end of the month, anyway; with any luck, however, part two of this chapter will be out fairly soon.
> 
> as per usual, thank you to infinitejellybean for putting up with me and my crisis and terrible writing; literally NOTHING would get done without you!
> 
> this is cross-posting onto FF.net and LiveJournal under the same name [[LJ posting is currently on hiatus]].  
> my tumblr is bakura-reads-yaoi, come say hi!
> 
> LOVE TO ALL OF YOU GUYS FOR STICKING WITH ME AND BRIGHTENING MY DAY!!  
> °˖✧〜(￣▽￣〜) (〜￣▽￣)〜✧˖°
> 
> [[just so you know, some edits have occurred since it was beta's so please excuse any mistakes]]


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